The Prince of Mischief, Lies, and Blood
by Pengping
Summary: Pre-Tilaria. Sequel to "Nightmare." The Loki you love is beginning to appear as the prince learns. One month has passed and Loki is earning his title as Godling of Mischief. Mischief on Asgard though translates to open war on Jötunnheim where Laufey fights for control against a band of outlaws, and Loki's going to need all of his new skills when the Jötunn's war comes to Asgard.
1. Raiders

All of the Nine Realms had criminals. Asgard had supervillains like the archer Ullr, or mages who were consumed by their hunger for magic. Alfheim had a fraction of Light Elves who practiced dark magiks despite the damage it caused to their mind and soul. These criminals were small in numbers though, so the two realms were considered peaceful overall.

On other Realms, peace was a luxery that they did not have. The presence of the criminal faction was painfully obvious. Midgard, Muspelheim, and Jötunnheim were the three realms where it was easiest to see.

The technical definition of a civil war was when two members of the same country fought against each other. For Realmers though, a civil war happened when two members of the same species fought each other. By the Realmers definition, Midgard was in an eternal civil war with too many factions and countries to ever try to count. Most didn't try, and they assumed the humans would forever be in a civil war with each other.

Muspelheim was plagued with rebel factions that worked to try and usurp the rightful government and take control of it. Asgard had taken away Muspelheim's powerful artifacts so Surtr, the king of Muspelheim, did not have enough power to stop them. Despite Surtr's obvious right as ruler, Asgard has refused to aid him in keeping control. Dozens of factions are currently fighting, and while the palace was protected from the fighting the civilians outside it were not. They had to pick a side or risk being prey to all factions. Surtr could do little but watch as his planet and people are slowly torn apart.

Jötunnheim was better off than Muspelheim, but not by much. They to, had been stripped of all of their weapons – the Casket of Ancient Winters and the Icefall Jewel being the two most well know – after they lost their war against Midgard. Without their power, Jötunnheim's lifeforce is slowly but surely dying. Within a millennia, there will be nothing living on Jötunnheim, _nothing_. Asgard knows this, but the artifacts that could restore the realms' lifeforce remain inside the Weapon's Vault.

Before the end of the war, and the loss of the power, Asgard had pushed the Jötnar off of Midgard and back to their own realm and they kept fighting. Once on Jötunnheim however, Asgard had found itself woefully weak against the harsh environment of the realm. Laufey knew that would happen and told one of his captains, a childhood friend named Vasad, to harass the Odin's troops. Vasad used Jötunnheim's winter to destroy the intruders. Thousands of Asgardians died because he and his squadron prevented them from reaching shelter and let the cold take its toll. His squad did not follow the laws; essentially they became outlaws working under the King's orders.

When the war ended, Vasad and his squadron found out that they didn't want to go back to following the laws. They lost their respect and loyalty to Laufey from his crippling defeat, and saw no reason to stay with him. Instead, they and their families vanished and crossed into the otherwise uninhabited Northern Wilds. They made their stronghold within the heart of Jötunnheim's Arctic Circle, the Spineback mountain range. For a time, all they did was hide.

Then a decade later they came back, and began attacking villages calling themselves Raiders. These raids continued on for three centuries, until a few decades ago when there was an accident. One of the villages they raided was the home of Princess Nál, Laufey's younger sister, and she was killed. It was an accident, a horrible accident that shook Vasad. Aghast by what he had done, Vasad stopped the raiding.

Nál left behind two children, Helblindi and his younger brother Býleistr. With their father dead from the war with Asgard, Laufey's son Loki presumed dead, and his wife Fárbauti confirmed dead, the boys were his now only family. A tender peace has settled into place between the Raiders and Laufey after Nál's murder, but that peace was about to be shattered and it was Asgard that would become their battleground.

* * *

Vasad walked down the icy hallways of his base quietly, trying not to think about the situation he and his Raiders were in. His base, unlike Laufey's palace, was inside of one of the many mountains of the Spineback range. He turned a corner and stopped walking when he was confronted by the odd sight before him. There was a Jötunn girl about four centuries old with fiery red hair doing a handstand in the tunnel in front of him.

Vasad tilted his head to look at the girl, trying to understand what he was seeing. She must have felt his gaze because she managed to glance up at Vasad despite the position she was in. When she recognized it as being Vasad she hopped back to her feet. The exotic red was highlighted with copper highlights that illuminated her brilliant lavender eyes.

"Hello father," she greeted him.

"Buri, what were you doing?" Vasad asked her with a little smile.

Buri shrugged. "I got bored, so I was testing my balance. This snowstorm has been going on for two weeks already, and I want to go outside."

"You know it's too cold to do that," Vasad warned her. "Even Jötnar have their limit. This winter has been a harsh one to say the least."

Buri scuffed one of her knee-high fur boots against the floor of stone and ice in irritation. She was a rare beauty. Most Jötnar were born without hair, but Buri had hair as red as fire – fire-touched she was called. Unlike others born with hair, she was not a Rhutistic but she did have access to a touch of very unique magic that trounced Heimdall's in power.

Because hair was so rare for a Jötunn Buri kept hers long, clean, and free with only a leather headband to keep it out of her eyes. Vasad had told her it was too long and to cut it, yet she had never done it. Neither had he.

Buri had stopped smiling, just as she always seemed to. "I wish I had more magic."

"You are perfect the way you are," Vasad promised his daughter.

Buri lowered her head without responding. She drew her eyebrows close together as if hearing something and looked up suddenly.

"Forad is coming," she announced suddenly and looked down the hallway behind her, "and I think he's irritated."

A few seconds later, Vasad heard footsteps and Forad, one of his advisers, walked into sight. There was something in his expression that could be described as irritated. Vasad gave a tiny smile at the wonder of Buri's magic.

"Forad, is something wrong?" Vasad asked. "Did a tunnel collapse?"

"Nothing like that," Forad promised.

He looked down at Buri with a neutral expression. Although Vasad had a son, it was his daughter that had been named his heir. He supposed Vasad's son wasn't fit to be heir though.

"If I may speak to you _alone_ ," Forad asked quietly.

"Of course," Vasad agreed. "Run along Buri."

Buri didn't acknowledge her father, and instead looked up at Forad. "It stopped snowing, didn't it?"

Forad felt a little chill at the girl's observation. Buri's magic was passive, that was she couldn't summon it to her fingertips and use it in a spell. Her magic let her sense things that her five senses couldn't. Sometimes she could sense things that happened on other realms, or things that had not yet happened. As ever, she was correct.

"Yes, it has," Forad told her in a similarly neutral tone.

"Father?" Buri asked Vasad in her most innocent voice without looking at him.

"Stay in the training grounds," Vasad ordered.

"Yes!" Buri smiled again.

She gave a quick bow of respect to Forad and started skipping down the hallway.

"Keep away from the plateau edges!" Vasad called after her.

Buri paused her skipping and turned to eye her father. The young girl put her hands on her hips and gave him a 'really?' look. She had grown up living in the mountains, and she knew better than to be near the edge of a cliff face. If you got close enough to the edge and the ground gave way it would be a long fall to the ground.

Vasad smiled as the girl continued to skip down the hallway. "Now Forad, what is it you wish to speak to me about?"

Forad hesitated. That slight movement caught Vasad off guard. This far in the Northern wilds every Raider needed to trust each other. He relied on that trust and loyalty to keep his people safe. As such, Vasad himself had few secrets – a claim few could make. Yet it was clear Forad wanted to speak in secret.

He motioned Forad on and they ducked into a room. The doorway to the room vanished into the walls.

"All right," Vasad started after the doorway of snowflakes reappeared behind them. "What do you wish to speak about so badly?"

Forad wordlessly handed Vasad a scroll of stiff white skin. Vasad took it warily and unrolled it, keeping a hold of the two bones on either end. Written on it in a blood-based ink was a report of food supplies.

He read it and then looked up at Forad. "Is this correct?"

"It's been double-checked," Forad promised. "That last storm taxed our stores. This is only the first month of the storm season. If we get hit with another storm like that then our supplies…"

Vasad let the scroll roll back up and sighed. "We will have to cut back on our rations."

"We are already on winter rations," Forad reminded him.

"We'll have to reduce them more," Vasad replied simply.

Forad shook his head. "Vasad, we might want to stop by Phaedra. The reports we have on them say that they have extra food stored up. We can assemble a raiding party and bolster our supplies."

Vasad gave a short laugh, "I knew you going to say that Forad."

"We are called Raiders, Vasad," Forad pointed out. "It's been decades since our last full scale attack on a village. Tell me, did that truly shake you so badly?"

Vasad knew he was referring to Nál's death. "I grew up with her and Laufey in the palace. She was like a little sister to everyone there. I killed her, and orphaned her sons. You wouldn't understand."

"No, a commoner like me would know nothing about palace life." Forad pointed out nonchalantly, "but we need more supplies. The only way to get it is to raid."

"Laufey has been ignoring us since we stopped our raiding If we cross south into his territory again, he will remember we exist." Vasad decided. "It is not worth shattering what small peace there is."

"What do you expect him to do if we stay peaceful enough?" Forad demanded. "Welcome us as a sovereign nation? You killed his sister!"

Vasad closed his eyes and looked down.

Forad realized he had pushed too hard and quieted. "All I am saying is that we Raiders might as well live up to our name. Are you scared of war? Our warriors are getting anxious from this lax time."

"I am not scared," Vasad answered instantly. "But I see no need to start a war without reason."

Forad knew that he was right despite Vasad's rapid response. "Is that your answer?"

"I will need to think this over. My orders will be relayed tomorrow," Vasad decided in a voice that made clear that was final.

Forad gave a slight bow and walked back out of the room. It was clear that Vasad's orders would not be different from what he had just said. He would not resume raiding and risk starting a war with Laufey. Although Forad was disgusted by the weakness, he was not surprised.

Fine Vasad, if you are too scared to start a war then I will have to do it for you.

* * *

 **Remember the end of the last story that said Asgard was soon going to be in a war? This is how it all starts.**

 **I found it a little odd that Heimdall was the only one with clairvoyance so I gave Buri her own. Unlike Heimdall she can't control what she senses, but she can see a far broader scope of information then he can when she does see something. Yes, Asgard is not the nicest race in existence. Did you think they were? All of the stories we're told in the Cinematic universe are from Asgard's POV and history is written by the victory, correct?**


	2. An Unfortunate Accident

Buri Vasaddottir gathered up some of the freshly fallen snow in her hands and packed it into a snowball. Her sense told her that her target would be walking outside any second now. With a smile, she threw it before her target entered her sight.

Someone walked outside the cavern entrance right then, a boy her age, one of the other few children. He stepped onto the snow, and got smacked in the face with the snowball right on cue.

Buri started laughing. "Hi Galar!"

Galar shook his head and brushed some of the snow off his face.

"What a way to say hello. I'll get you back for that," he warned.

Buri didn't answer and looked at the snow she had collected with a suddenly stern look. "Father's coming with some others. I think they're going hunting."

"Can you tell how many and who?" Galar asked curiously.

Like most Raiders, Galar considered Buri's sense to be a true gift. Once she trained her power then she would be an unbelievable asset to the Raiders, and Galar's questions forced her to try and focus her power. She was unable to answer Galar's question before the hunting party came outside, and Buri couldn't help but be a little disappointed.

It was comprised of her father, Forad, and a few other Raiders. She wondered what her father and Forad had spoken about yesterday after she had been standing on her head. It had sensed serious to her, and there was a slight underlying tension between the two that hadn't been there yesterday.

"Are you going out hunting?" Buri asked her father.

Vasad nodded, and Buri gained a pleased look leaving Vasad to guess correctly that she had sensed that. "We're going to see what we can catch."

Vasad hoped that they did catch something because if they didn't then they might really have to start raiding, and that would be the equivalent of starting a war. No leader wanted to put their people through war.

Buri tried to focus, but her sense didn't tell her if the hunting party would be successful. Her power was fickle like that and told what it wanted when it wanted to. She settled for telling her father a "good hunt" as they left, wishing she could tell them more and that she could go with them.

The Spineback mountains that the Raiders made their home were mineral-rich in a special crystalline ore called Corlonium that naturally canceled out scrying abilities. No one could scry or clairvoyantly see something within the boundaries of the Raiders rich base, not even Heimdall. Only Buri's sense worked because it was not normal clairvoyance, but something very different.

Asgard did not currently know that Buri existed because she had never left the cloaking field of the Corlonium, and never been beyond the boundaries of the Raider's base. Just once, Buri wished she could see the world beyond the outer courtyard. She knew that today would not be that day though, for keeping her hidden from Asgard and Laufey was of the utmost importance.

She turned away from the hunting party to where Galar was standing there patiently. He hadn't tried to wreak his revenge on Buri while she was lost in thought in understanding. Unlike Buri, Galar was allowed to leave the base. Only once she came out of her thoughts did Galar throw his snowball at her. Buri ducked to avoid it, and Galar smiled. Their snowball resumed, and Buri was grateful for the distraction.

Time passed, and eventually other Raider children joined in their fight. Even Hati Hróðvitnisson's twin had come out of his seclusion, although it appeared to Galar and Buri that Hati had needed to drag Sköll into the snowball fight. Buri laughed as she avoided their snowballs, grateful that her sense was cooperating and allowing her to know where they were. The other children were targeting her and each other, and no one had managed to hit her yet thanks to her sense.

A jolt suddenly passed through her, and Buri thought she could taste blood in the air as her boots slipped. She fell into the snowbank she had been near. The blood grew and took over her other senses, leaving Buri too stunned to get out of the snow.

"Ri!" Galar called out when she didn't stand. "Hey Ri!"

Buri couldn't stand from the stupor her sense had put her into. Galar ran over to her and the other children followed him worried for her. He helped Buri sit up worriedly, one arm supporting her back.

"Ri? Are you okay?" Galar asked at the sight of Buri's unfocused eyes, and unresponsive form. "Buri?"

"Blood," Buri whispered distantly, "blood."

She turned her hand and ran her fingers through the soft snow near her with a pained look.

"All the pretty snow's turning red," Buri said mournfully and let the flakes in her hand fall from her fingers without really seeing them. "The ice is no longer pure, blood."

"Buri!" Galar repeated louder.

Buri gave no response to him, and kept whispering about the blood, the poor snow, and the tainted ice. She didn't seem aware of her surroundings at all, as if she could now be affected only by he her sense and the rest of the world didn't exist. It was almost like a sort of catatonic state. Galar had never seen Buri's sense affect her like this, and it was terrifying.

"Her mind's gone into shock," Sköll said softly as he kneeled beside Galar seriously as ever. "Hati, go tell the healers what's going on."

Hati nodded briskly and ran back inside.

"Galar," Sköll said softly as he took control of the situation. "Whatever she saw with her sense has driven her into shock. She's not able to comprehend it. The healers should look at her."

Galar nodded a few times. "Right, right, yes, you're right. Can you help me carry her?"

Sköll nodded, and took Buri's other arm. The two of them started to carry Buri back inside with the children swarming around them. Buri was still whispering, but her body was limp, and it was difficult for the boys to carry her.

"Blood," Buri whispered, "the blood, father's…"

Sköll and Galar stopped walking in terror at what Buri had just said. Slowly, Galar turned his head to Buri's unaware eyes.

"Father?" He whispered to her.

"Vasad," Sköll realized in a voice that trembled slightly, something that rarely happened to him. "It's Vasad's blood. That's why her mind is in shock."

"Father," Buri repeated softly as if to emphasize the point.

Sköll glanced over at the children that were swarming them as they started to ask questions, echoing Galar.

He hissed at them softly, and baring his fangs as he ordered sharply, "scatter you lot. You're only going to slow us down, and no one will know anything until Buri wakes up and I doubt that will be for some time."

The children jumped back from Galar as they always did when he glared at them, and they scattered to go find their parents. Sköll smirked as if happy he'd scared them, but Galar didn't say anything. He only watched Buri worriedly as they carried her to the healer's ward.

Hati was still there when the children arrived with Buri, and Imdr was clearly expecting them. She looked surprised at Buri's ramblings, and quickly had the boys lay her down. Then she shooed them and Hati away so she could work in peace. They didn't want to go, but Imdr left them with little choice.

The three of them hadn't made it too the entrance before they saw Raiders gathering. They looked at each silently, and crept forward. What they saw left them stunned. It was the hunting party, and they had returned earlier than planned.

Forad was leading the party, and the rest of his group was near him. Being carried between them on a temporary stretcher of ice was Vasad. With every step the group took, a few more crimson blood fell from Vasad to the clear ice.

"The ice is no longer pure," Galar whispered the words Buri had spoken earlier, and put a hand over his mouth.

Buri had been right.

* * *

Many of the Raiders had gathered later after Imdr took care of Vasad, and had reluctantly informed them that he had slipped into a deep coma with fluctuating vitals. Forad had spoken to the Raiders who had gathered. Their hunting party had split into pairs to cover more ground, and Forad had gone with Vasad. What Vasad was doing so near the edge of the cliff when it gave way under him, Forad did not know. It was lucky Vasad had survived the initial fall, although he might not survive the night.

Under normal circumstances, Buri would take over, but the girl was still in shock from the sense of her father's blood. Her younger brother was hardly fir to be a leader, and so there was suddenly a gap in the line of succession. The Raiders needed a leader, especially since they were so low on supplies.

Forad had stepped away to the side while the Jötnar began to talk about the need for a leader, or for a decision to be made. He remembered almost with a smile when he had confronted Vasad during the hunting. Vasad had turned down his idea of raiding again. Though he had claimed he was no coward, Forad knew better.

Since Vasad was clearly no longer fit to lead, Forad had crystallized an ice blade around a hand and taken care of the problem. He knew he could do a far better job of leading. Buri slipping into this state was an added bonus, for the last thing he wanted was that girl to sense something about Forad's role in Vasad's "accident."

"What should we do next?" Raymun, one of the many Raiders present, finally asked. "We need more supplies."

"Then we should get some," Forad finally spoke up, drawing everyone's attention to him. "I spoke with Vasad before we left. He said that if our hunting parties could not turn up anything that it might be necessary to begin raiding again."

"Dangerous," another Raider mused darkly. "Laufey will remember we exist and strike back at us."

"Thanks to the Corlonium in the mountains he doesn't know where our base is," Forad argued, taking charge of the situation. "We also have tunnels all over these mountains, and so can enter and exit nearly any part. Our base is secure, and Laufey might not necessarily be _able_ to respond to a raid."

"After what happened to Nál I think he's somewhat eager for our blood," Raymun reminded the gathered group cautiously.

Forad smiled when he realized that everyone was looking at him. "What if our first strike is decisive enough that Laufey can't retaliate?"

"And where could we strike that would put Laufey in such a position?" Raymun challenged.

That was the moment when Forad knew he had won. Rather then dismiss his suggestion out of hand as impossible or ridiculous, they were asking for details as if they were considering it. From here on out it would be easy.

"Útgarðr's palace," Forad answered slowly and dramatically.

"Laufey's palace," Raymun whispered, stepping back in shock at his suggestion.

The other Jötnar reacted similarly, and Forad smiled openly this time, "Aye. Many of us who here served Laufey until the loss of the Casket, so we know what the protections around the palace are like. Those with true malice in their hearts cannot enter its ground."

"Considering that we'd be going there on a raid I say we'd fit those terms," Raymun argued again.

"The palace's protections drew off the pure light of the Casket of Ancient Winters, but with the Casket gone what do you suppose powers those enchantments?" Forad asked and hummed intently.

No one responded, not even Raymun, so Forad continued triumphantly.

"Nothing," Forad smiled. "There is nothing to keep the enchantments in place, so they will fade away and become useless."

Raymun didn't challenge Forad this time, realizing that Forad was correct.

"I mentioned when I spoke to Vasad about the raiding, and he agreed that I might be correct," Foard lied smoothly.

Vasad had never let him get so far as to mention the palace's protections, but the gathered Raiders had no way to know that. Buri might have sensed something was wrong with his words, but she was still in shock and not able to bother him. My, Ymir must be on his side for things to go this perfectly.

"Say we agree to raid the palace," a Raider spoke cautiously. "What would be our target? Surely not Laufey?"

"No," Forad promised him. "There are two perfect targets within the palace… Helblindi and Býleistr."

"Nál's children," Raymun whispered.

"Laufey's nephews," Forad agreed, "two half-trained children no older than Buri, vulnerable. Laufey will be scrambling to protect them, and so will leave the rest of Jötunnheim open to us."

"You're not going to kill both of them" Raymun asked in horror. "They are Jötunnheim's only heirs!"

The lives of the royal family shouldn't matter nearly so much to Raiders, but Forad worked with it. "We don't have to kill them, just scare Laufey badly enough."

"And how do you suppose we smuggle a strike force into Útgarðr with no one being the wiser?" A Raider challenged softly. "Unlike our southern kin who follow Laufey, we do not live near Jötunnheim's equator and our furs makes us easy to see. Even if we remove them, our personality and accent are very clearly Raider."

"The Midwinter's Eve Festival," Foard pushed. "We can break the raiding party into smaller squads and smuggle them in with the rest of the crowd that will be traveling to Útgarðr for the celebration."

Forad could only say so much, and he knew the final choice would have to be the other Raiders to make. His plan had the means, target, and best of all, the blood. It had been a long time since the Raiders had killed, and Forad bowed his head humbly to hide his smile as the Raiders present began to voice their agreement to his plan. The Raiders were eager for blood after a century of peace, and once they got use to Forad's leadership they would not go back and listen to Buri or her father.

The Raiders were soon going to be Forad's to command, and all it was going to take were the lives of the last of Laufey's family. Forad considered that to be fair.

* * *

 **You know the stories the Asgardians tell of the Jötunn monsters? Most Jötnar aren't like that, but the Raiders are. They are the true monsters from the stories, and stories about them are told by both Asgard and Jötunnheim.**

 **Buri's sense is accurate, too accurate and detailed in this case because now Forad's got free reign. Until Buri goes to normal he won't even have to pretend to serve her or turn her into a puppet. He's just free, and this is where this first war starts. The war between Jötunnheim and Asgard begins a little later on.**

 **Ymir is the Elder God who created the Jötnar, so he's their god.**


	3. Snowball Brawl

Loki was outside, but he didn't know where he was for all he saw was snow. There was a chill in the air as Loki warily did a full circle to try and find a landmark. In the distance he saw a tree, but there was nothing else breaking the field of white. With no other direction to go in he started walking towards the tree.

It got colder the longer Loki walked, colder and colder, bitterly so. He didn't have his jacket with him, and he wrapped his arms around his stomach as he shivered. The tree got no closer.

His lungs started to hurt from breathing in the icy air, and he stumbled, almost falling as he lost sensation in his feet and lower legs. There was nowhere else to go though, so Loki kept walking towards the tree. He wasn't aware of how long he was walking until his exhausted legs gave from beneath and he collapsed into the snow. With effort, Loki forced himself to stand, realizing that he wasn't wearing gloves and couldn't feel his hands.

An icy wind came up and chilled him further, slicing through his light-weight tunic effortlessly. His breathing became ragged from the effort of walking, and he painted uneven patterns in the air with every breath he exhaled. Exhaustion weighed down his limbs, and Loki began to drag his feet through the snow as he fought to keep walking.

Before too long the white sky and ground began to shimmer as if he were staring at a mirage, and he collapsed onto the snow again. The wind that had felt so harsh didn't anymore, as if Loki couldn't feel how cold it was. A little bit of snow was blown on top of him, and with effort Loki turned his head towards the tree. It was as far away as it had been when he had started walking.

His heartbeat was loud in his ears, and Loki knew he should get up and keep walking. The snow felt so soft though, and he was so tired. Perhaps if he just took a brief respite, and when he was done he could keep walking. Loki felt warm suddenly, and his eyelids felt heavy as his heartbeat began to slow. Although he tried to keep his eyes open or to stand up, he realized he was just too tired and they closed against his will.

As Loki slept, the cold finally killed him.

Loki jumped awake with a start, and his sudden movement knocked the book he had been resting his head on off of his desk. It fell to the ground and landed on its spine with a huge clatter, scaring him again. His breathing was fast and shallow, and sweat slicked his hair to his head. There were bloody crescents in his palms from where he had subconsciously clenched his hands from the dream, but slowly the shock of the nightmare faded and Loki became aware of his surroundings.

He was in his room on Gladsheimr, and had fallen asleep reading at his desk again. The doors to his balcony must not have been closed all the way because they had blown open in the night, and the wind blew fat white snowflakes into his room. Both his room and Loki were covered in a light dusting of white fluff, and it made his room feel very cold indeed.

He took a breath to slow his heartbeat and slowly stood, making the snow on his shoulders and hair flutter to the ground. His feet were bare, and his toes crunched on the dry snow as Loki walked over and manually shut the balcony doors, turning the lock so they wouldn't open by accident again. The cold made him shiver and Loki wrapped his arms around his stomach just as he had done in his nightmare.

It was a somewhat terrifying so Loki quickly snatched his jacket off of his bed and shook the snow off of it before putting it on. He crawled under the thick green comforter on his bed and curled up to try and warm up, wishing that he could just use his magic to perform a warmth spell. Unfortunately, Loki knew that using his magic was impossible right now.

Slowly the feeling returned in his fingers and toes, and his breath no longer hurt his throat. Loki was relived, and also frustrated at himself for being so weak. His nightmare of the cold killing him was the same one that he had had for the past four nights in a row, and had just had for the fifth time.

It was a singularly ironic nightmare since the cold had never bothered Loki before in his life. Even in the dead of winter, he could still walk around in a tunic with no gloves or jacket and be perfectly comfortable thanks to his ice magic. Now his immunity to the cold was gone, and it troubled him in both the waking and dream world.

Why was the cold his enemy all of a sudden? It had never been this vicious towards him before. Slítas wasn't with him anymore, having been sent back to Jötunnheim five days ago now, but Loki had been immune to the cold long before he had met his friend.

Was it because Loki had opened the rift to Jötunnheim five days ago and felt true cold, realizing that winter on Asgard was like a warm summer day compared to how cold it could be? The snow was starting to melt in his room, and Loki watched it without using his magic to speed in its banishment. He didn't regret sending Slítas back home away from his father's wrath, but Loki wished that being exposed to Jötunnheim hadn't affected him like it had.

Standing before the rift he had made as Jötunnheim's cold air ruffled his hair, watching as Slítas returned home, that was the first time he had felt the sensation of being cold. Being exposed to the realm had done something to him, stirred something in his blood perhaps, and Loki now wore his jacket not out of habit to avoid his mother's scolding but because he needed it.

Loki supposed it was a mercy that these winter nightmares weren't Real Nightmares where the injuries he received in the nightmare were real and bleeding when he awoke in bed. He poked his head out from under the comforter and looked at the rune on his nightstand to see the time rather than do a charm. The rune said it was an hour before breakfast.

He could go back to bed, but Loki knew there was no way he was going to sleep and live through dying again. Reluctantly Loki climbed out from under the comforter and took off his jacket so he could change into his day clothes. This was done as quickly as possible, and Loki quickly put his jacket back on once he was dressed.

Once he was dressed he paused, he realized that it was too early for anyone besides servants to be awake. Cautiously, Loki decided to try again and carefully touched his magic to do a simple charm to evaporate the water. Instantly the temperature in his room dropped and Loki released his hold on his seidr. It was still doing it after all.

Whenever he tried to use his normal magic, his ice magic activated and froze the environment around him as if he were a Jötunn. It had started doing this five days ago, when he had returned Slítas and started having the winter nightmares. Loki didn't understand why his magic was doing this, or what it had to do with Jötunnheim because Loki was an Asgardian.

He thought that maybe he could talk to Sigyn as he tugged on his magic again, and once again felt winter's chill enter his blood. Loki doubted that the Jötnar got cold after using their ice magic, but there weren't any Jötnar he could ask. His fallen book he had knocked off the desk was sitting open mournfully, and Loki walked over and placed it respectfully on his desk.

Forgoing the magic book, Loki left his room and closed the door behind him, being both cold and hungry. For once, he wanted something warm to eat. With his goal in mind, Loki began to walk down to the dining hall without waking Thor from his deep slumber.

Ever since Loki had learned how to teleport he had sued the spell to get from place to place as often as he could. Doing this gave him more practice with his magic, and it also taxed his seidr. This forced it grow stronger, similar to how a person does push-ups to make their arms stronger. With his magic so… contaminated as it currently stood, he didn't dare risk a teleport.

Walking to the dining hall took longer than Loki remembered it taking, but he finally arrived. The hall was mostly empty as everyone was still sleeping. Only a few Star Guard were present, having just come off the night shift and eating a meal half-asleep. His arrival went unnoticed, and he slipped into the kitchen beyond.

The ovens were blazing inside the kitchen as the staff prepared a hot morning meal for the residents of Gladsheimr. Loki found the warmth refreshing as it chased away the chill that clung to him, but stifling at the same time as it clashed with his thrice-blasted ice magic. He wasn't noticed immediately, but eventually a scullery maid spotted him standing off to one side. She did not chase him out to wait to eat with everyone else as she approached, for many things had changed since Loki's had used the Tesseract.

"Princeling," she greeted him instead, "you're up early again. Same dream, same order?"

"Yes to both, Jeanne," Loki told her.

Jeanne was a mere scullery maid, but she would be able to take the food without facing a rolling pin, and she knew that in the five days since Loki had returned Slítas to his home that he had come in here every morning with shadows under his eyes from a nightmare. Most servants tended to be either plain of beauty of very beautiful, but Jeanne was neither with only fair beauty. She had mousy brown hair and hazel eyes, and was only in her mid-teens.

Loki hung back quietly so he wouldn't be spotted as Jeanne casually picked up a plate and put food on it. He had only given Jeanne his breakfast order once on the first day, and had never had to repeat it to her. Her good memory meant she'd likely move up from the position of scullery maid as she got older, and Loki hoped she would.

Many people thought that Jeanne was ugly, but Loki didn't understand why. Did they call her that just because of the scars on her face she had gotten when she was younger and had been involved in an accident with some boiling water? The right side of her face was scarred red from that incident, but Loki didn't think that made her ugly. After all, her smile was warm and her eyes were kind.

After about a minute of quietly slipping from station to station around the kitchen, Jeanne returned with his breakfast. She passed him a tray that had his food, a pitcher of milk, mug, and even silverware and a napkin. Loki was amazed s ever that she had managed to sneak all of this away without getting caught by the hawk-eyed chefs.

He accepted it with a polite, "thank you."

Jeanne curtsied to him and then went back to doing her chores. No one in the kitchen seemed any the wiser to her theft, and Loki left before someone did notice him. For a mere kitchen maid, Jeanne was awful sneaky, and she didn't even have any magic.

Normally when Loki didn't want to eat breakfast with Thor and Thor's friends he would go outside and sit on one the roof of a patio or covered walkway, but he could no longer do that because it was cold out and Loki now felt the cold. He set his tray on one of the empty tables in the warm dining hall, and ate quicker then he usual would for he wanted to leave before Thor came. Loki knew that Thor meant well, but he didn't want his older brother to baby him because of his new weakness.

Once Loki finished eating he put his tray back into the kitchen with the few other dirty dishes from the Star Guard who were here so early. He beat a hasty retreat to escape the stifling yet welcoming warmth, and thought about what he could do not. Today was Saturday, so he had no lessons to attend and wasn't sure what to do.

He could go to the library or back to his room, but he couldn't wander around Gladsheimr's grounds anymore because of the cold. When Loki thought about it, he simply didn't have much to do on a free day. Not like Thor who could probably imagine something to do with his clique of friends. Loki knew that Thor would be glad to have Loki tag along but Fandral, Volstagg, and Hogun were Thor's friends, not Loki's.

In the past five days, the mood around Gladsheimr had darkened somehow, and Loki knew it was mostly because of him. Jaro's arm was still in a sling, and Sif had mostly stayed in her room as she got used to having such plain hair and recovered from Slítas turning her blood to ice. Oddly enough, Loki didn't regret hurting or letting harm come to either of them, and he wondered if maybe he should.

Loki had begun to drift through the halls by now, and he stopped walking to look out a window. A virgin layer of snow dusted everything, and icicles hung from the edges of roofs and trees branches. Sparkles of rainbows danced around as the sunlight from the clear sky shined through the icicles, painting a scene straight from a storybook.

He bounced on his toes a little when he saw the sun was out, although the frost on the windowpane he stood next to made it clear it was below freezing. With the sun out then it was bound to warm up, and even if it was cold out it always felt warm when you stood in the sun. Loki debated what to do and then tightened his jacket around himself before starting to walk outside.

Although the best place to be alone was the royal gardens, it was always possible one of his parents would be there, and he didn't want to see them right now. Due to that, Loki headed to the courtyard the window had looked over and found that it was still empty once he arrived. It was cold out and the air was crisp, but the sun did make it feel warmer than it was.

There was no one about, so Loki cautiously sent out a sense echo. Sense echoes were the simplified form of a senseline and instead of placing lines around him, he sent out a ripple of magic that bounced to a set distance and then returned to him. The sense echo returned successfully, and Loki was curious about his magic. If he could do a sense echo, then could he do a spell?

The answer soon became a clear no, for the moment Loki tapped into his magic his magic tried to slip free. He fought back, terrified of losing control, and clamped down on his magic to try and drag it in line. His magic fought back just as hard as he fought, and Loki soon gave up and let his touch on the magic fade.

Although he had only been in contact with his magic for a few seconds the temperature had dropped drastically in those few seconds. No matter how many times he fixed his magic it always went wild again. He finally trusted his magic, and now it was biting him. Would he ever be a mage?

He leaned against one of the pillars as he sat under the patio and overlooked the snow. Loki closed his eyes and relaxed. Before long his lack of sleep started to catch up to him, and his head nodded once as he threatened to drift off. Briskly Loki shook his head to wake up, but ended up drifting off anyway.

This was a different dream then the usual nightmare, for all around him was snow that whipped around the air like rain as if he were in the middle of a blizzard. He could barely see the hand he raised in front of his face to try and shield his eyes from the razor sharp wind. The wind seemed to whistle, as if mimicking a song, and it was a song Loki knew.

The song of the blizzard wind was the same as the melody of his magic. This blizzard was his magic, and clearly it wasn't very pleased with him. Loki stumbled back in the snow and fell… only to start back awake.

He was still in the courtyard where he had sat, and a chill had set in from sitting in one place for so long. His muscles were stiff, but Loki didn't pay it much mind. What exactly was going on with his magic?

One of the sun's rays shone in his eyes, and Loki leaned behind the pillar to get out of its reach. The sun was higher in the sky then before, and if Loki was looking at the sun correctly, then from the amount it had risen he estimated that he had been sleeping for almost an hour. He chewed his lip and stood, flexing his limbs to shoo away the stiffness.

He wished his magic would stop trying to kill him.

The doors to Gladsheimr's interior opened then, and a group of children stepped out. Loki looked at them as he rubbed sleep from his eyes, and recognized Jaro in his sling with horror. Quickly, he inched into the shadow of the pillar, and was relieved when Jaro didn't see him. Unlike Thor, Loki had no taste in brawling, and was even less inclined to get into a conflict without his magic.

Loki was saved from that possibility when two more boys came out from the opposite side of the courtyard. It took Loki a moment to recognize them. His first thought was that it was Thor, but no, it was Baldur and his younger brother Hodr. Baldur and Thor looked very similar, with Hodr only a little plainer then Baldur. Those two looked like brother at least, Loki thought crossly to himself, Thor and I don't look anything alike.

Hodr noticed Jaro and his "pack" first thanks to his unnaturally sharp vision and he elbowed his brother with a grin before kneeling down and scooping snow into his hands. Loki knew what would happen then, and tried to slip deeper into the shadows. It started when Hodr threw a snowball at Jaro and hit him on the side of the neck when Jaro looked away to speak to one of his friends. Jaro stumbled forward, and might have fallen into the snow if one of his boys hadn't grabbed his good arm to stabilize him.

Loki was too far away to hear precisely what Jaro told Hodr, but he knew Jaro well enough to be able to fill in the blanks. Hodr simply threw the snowball that had been in his other hand in response. Jaro sidestepped that one, but it clobbered one of his friends in the face.

Instead of throwing a snowball back, Jaro threw a punch at Hodr. The crack echoed as it connected solidly with his cheek, and the noise made Loki flinch against his will. Baldur caught his brother before he fell, and said something to Jaro. Jaro's look was haughty and he turned his back to them as if it was no concern.

That quickly turned out to be a mistake as he was ambushed when Baldur jumped onto his back and flattened him into the snow. Jaro's friends went to help their alpha, and Hodr jumped to his brother's aid, leaving Loki to watch in amusement at the brawl that had just broken out.

Two on three.

Even though Baldur and Hodr were outnumbered the two brothers made a good team like Loki and Thor did, so the odds were surprisingly even. Loki never got into a brawl if he could help it though, finding the heavy-fisted fight distasteful. All they were doing was hitting each other until one stayed down, and their technique did not appeal to Loki as it seemed to for Thor.

Another contestant suddenly jumped into the fray, and it was obvious to Loki that it was Thor. Hodr and Baldur were Thor's cousins though, so Loki supposed Thor had a valid reason to reinforce them and of course Thor would not be able to resist a chance to fight. Thor looked less like he was helping his cousins though and more like he was simply fighting.

Two on three on one.

Fandral, Hogun, and Volstagg were with Thor but they were hanging a little further away. It was Fandral who decided they had better help their prince and waded into the fight, hitting one of Jaro's friends before getting ambushed by the other.

Two on three on two, Loki corrected himself with an amused thought at the battle royal that was taking shape.

Loki amended his tally of the teams when Fandral was thrown back onto the snow and helped up by Hogun. Fandral spoke quietly to Fandral, and all three of them promptly piled into the brawl to help Thor. It was so ridiculous that Loki almost clapped a hand to his forehead.

Two on three on four.

Sounds of the fighting finally reached inside the palace, but it was a boy with dark red hair who answered the call. He was smart enough not to try and break up the fight by himself, and he vanished back inside to get adult aid. Before long, the red-haired boy returned with three Star Guard.

The Star Guard quickly began to break the boys apart. When Jaro and Baldur didn't stop trying to strangle each other as they tussled on the ground, the red haired boy stopped it for them. He kicked Jaro across the face, and then did the same for Baldur. That broke them up, and the Star Guards were able to get a grip on them.

Loki observed the damage from the brawl without moving. It looked as if the sun was setting around Thor's eyes from the bruises, and his lower lip was bleeding. Fandral wasn't putting any weight on one of his feet. There were scratch marks on Hodr's cheek and neck. Blood was running from Hogan's hairline and down his cheek to drip to the ground. Volstagg had a dazed look as if he had a concussion. Of course, both Jaro and Baldur seemed to be covered in bruises. One of Jaro's goons had a broken nose that dripped blood, and the other was cradling his chest likely from broken ribs.

Jaro and the red-haired boy began to bicker, and Fandral said something that made Jaro turn red. The Star Guard's grip prevented Jaro from restarting the brawl, and it was obvious Jaro was not happy about that. Before the brawl did get a chance to begin anew the two Star Guard holding Jaro and Baldur dragged them inside while the third ushered the rest of the children in.

Considering their injuries, Loki assumed his brother and the other children were being taken to the Healer's Ward. He hovered in the shadows, unseen as the courtyard emptied again. A gentle tug on his magic pulled the shadows around him in an invisibility veil. He bit his lip as he fought for control.

Loki's control slipped suddenly, and a ripple of power razed across the ground with telekinetic force, shearing away the snow and sending him flying through the air backwards. He fell hard onto his back on the stone floor with a ringing head.

When Loki sat up, dizzy from his spell slipping from his control he put pressure on his wrist and jerked his hand back as pain spiked up the wrist. Clearly he'd landed wrong, and Loki figured out what had happened fairly quickly as he tugged the sleeve of his sore wrist up and saw his skin covered in bruises and burns on his palms and fingertips. The spell had recoiled back into his hand, and damaged his blood vessels while causing hairline fractures up his arm all the way to his elbow.

He exhaled in relief that the recoil hadn't caused more damage as his body began to work the damage. It was thorough however, so Loki decided it might be best for a healer to see it. With a sigh at his magic, he began to slowly walk after the group of brawlers, cradling his arm to his chest.

* * *

Sigyn was refilling the bruise balm ream when a ruckus drew her attention and a group of Star Guard walked in escorting a group of children. The children looked as if they had just tried to kill each other, and might yet again. She wasn't surprised to see the group aware that the more time the Asgardian children spent stuck indoors with their lessons, the more desperate they'd get to find _something_ to do.

The guards roughly deposited their charges in the room, and stepped back. For an instant, it looked as if the children might resume whatever fight they'd been in previously. They realized that guards were braced for exactly that, and so reluctantly stopped.

Sigyn saw Thor and the other two heirs to Asgard's throne, Baldur and Hodr, but saw no sign of Loki. Either he hadn't deigned to help his sibling, or he hadn't been present. She finished topping off the balm, but didn't put it up since it looked like she might need it.

A boy with dark red hair leaned against the doorway. Sigyn recognized it as Angborn, but since the son of Eirill was not injured she turned away from him to the other children. Likely Angborn had fetched the Star Guard to break up the brawl rather then participate in it, and that was why he was uninjured.

"Which of you needs medical attention?" She asked loudly.

Thor shook his head that he was fine, and both Hodr and Hogun shook it off as well. Baldur and Jaro both appeared to be willing to accept her offer, but gave each other scything glares when they stepped forward. Fandral nudged Volstagg forward as well, but the rest of Jaro's friends stayed quiet. Sigyn waved the boys that were badly injured forward to check their injuries and see if she could heal them by herself.

* * *

 **Back to Loki since the story is not only about the Raiders and what's happening on Jotunnheim. With how dark things are going to get on Jotunnheim i figure you would appreciate some fluff although this chapter is serious in some ways as well. I will say that cabin fever starting to play its role in driving the boys crazy. In some ways it is almost laughable.**


	4. Raid

The clear skies of Jötunnheim that night were lit up from the Sky Lights dancing across the sky in shades of green, red, and purple. They looked like rippling streams or curtains of light. This phenomenon happened every night, each night with a different pattern, but could be only be seen on the rare cloudless night. Humans would call them the Aurora Borealis.

All of the Jötnar still awake in Útgarðr would look at them from time to time as they walked. Despite it being the day before the Midwinter's Eve festival, there were few Jötnar out as most had gone to bed early so they would be well rested for tomorrow. Many Jötnar had come to the capital to partake in the festival, so there were a lot of new faces around.

The guards around Laufey's palace were not worried, and amused themselves by leaning against the gates and watching the dancing lights. Despite being on shift, they weren't doing much of guarding.

Prince Býleistr was also outside watching the dance of the lights, and enjoying the view. The adults had told him that before The War, before the Æsir had stolen the Casket, the Casket used illuminate the entire palace grounds with its blue light. That blue glow was thought to be picked up and reflected in the Sky Lights. Ever since the Casket had been taken the Sky Lights had lost their blue color, so maybe it was true.

Býleistr knew that his uncle Laufey had gone to bed early for once, and so was missing out on the Sky Light's dance. The Deus Praesidio that had attached itself to Laufey would undoubtedly be with him. A Deus Praesidio, translated into God's Protector, was a serpent that Ymir had created during the time of the Elder Gods fifteen thousand years ago. They were so rare that many Jötunn believed them to be a creature of stories only, at least until a black-scaled one had appeared in Laufey's throne room eight days ago.

Of all the stories of the Deus Praesidio, one thing they had in common was that they had dusky white scales, yet the one with Laufey had black scales. According to stories there was only one Deus Praesidio with black scales, and it was something quite remarkable for it...

An exciting yipping sound interrupted Býleistr before he could finish his thought, and he looked away from the sky to see three bundles of fur running towards him. They were snow wolf pups, and the one in the lead hopped off of the ice patio and onto the snow. He vanished with a puff when he landed in the deep snow. The two others tried to come to a stop. One managed it, but the third slid into him and knocked him into the snowbank as well. The third one looked off the patio over at the two in the snow.

Býleistr smiled at the antics of the three pups. One of the pups in the snow hopped up, and you could see his ears flop above the snow before vanishing again. The other one in the snow started whining for its foster mother to come rescue him.

"I'm coming," a Jötunn promised in a tired voice as he walked into Býleistr's sight. "What did you three do now?"

"Hello Ryg," Býleistr greeted the visitor with a smile, crimson eyes from his royal blood bright.

Ryg nodded, "my prince."

Both of the pups in the snow started whining, and Ryg knelt on the ice and fished them out. He set them next to the one wolf pup that hadn't fallen in, and the two boys started swatting at their sister until Ryg shushed them. Býleistr did not envy Ryg's task of raising the littermates one bit.

"Out watching the skylights?" Ryg asked Býleistr as the pups finally stopped picking on their sister and the alpha male of the three swatted at his brother playfully, soon breaking into a tussle.

It was something of a game to the younger Jötnar to watch the skylights to try and find blue in them.

"No blue yet," Býleistr promised. "Are you still looking for a hawk?"

Ryg was a Warg, which was why he had such control over the pups. The number of familiars a Warg could have was not determined by anything. Ryg had the pups, but what he wanted was one of the rare hawks that lived in Jötunnheim's mountains – eyes in the sky he called it.

"Yes," Ryg promised, "But they are not easy to find."

Despite the fact that Ryg was in his mid-teens and Býleistr wasn't yet a teenager, he felt comfortable around the young prince. He was much easier to get along with then his elder brother. It was a pity that Helblindi was the older child, Ryg reflected, for Býleistr would likely make a better king.

"It doesn't look like there's to be any blue tonight," Ryg said nonchalantly. "Care to help me get these three inside for the night?"

He caught the boys as they rolled off the patio and almost fell into the deep snow again while their sister watched. Býleistr knew that Ryg was trying to make him go to bed subtly, but it might not be the worst idea. It _was_ getting late, and there _was_ the festival tomorrow, so Býleistr nodded.

"All right Ryg," Býleistr said in his gentle voice that came partially from him being a healer. "That's fine."

Ryg made his pups walk instead of carrying them since they obviously had energy to burn, and escorted his prince back into the palace. The once grand castle had collapsed partially, and the clear ice that made up most of it had become cloudy and dull. It was another side effect of losing the Casket.

They were still on the lower levels on the palace when the alarm hissed in their magic. It vanished after a few seconds, but the two hesitated where they were. When things remained calm, Ryg sighed and shook his head.

"Wow, someone's already drunk enough to trip the alarm and the festival doesn't even start until tomorrow," Ryg scorned. "That's actually a little impressive."

Ryg's snow wolf pups didn't dismiss the alarm as he did. The little girl pressed herself against his leg with a whimper, and one of the boys stepped back with his fur on end. It was the eldest of the three, the self-proclaimed Alpha, who drew his lips back from his fangs and growled at the air.

Býleistr glanced at Ryg worriedly, and let a little of ice creep along his fingers in preparation to crystallize a weapon. The reason why Wargs like Ryg were so useful was because of their familiars, for animals could sense things others couldn't.

The Alpha pup turned his growl towards the hallway with flattened ears, evidently able to hear something. Ryg didn't meet his prince's look, but held his ground and remained quiet to try and hear what it was that was upsetting his pups. He had never seen them react quite like this before, and their emotions were starting to scare him a little.

Ryg suddenly formed a blade around his hand and fell into fighting stance, prompting Býleistr to copy his actions.

"Ryg?" Býleistr asked softly, hand trembling.

Four Jötnar turned the corner from the direction the pups were growling in, and stopped when they saw the duo and the pups. They also had blades crystallized around their hands. Býleistr froze under their glares, and his magic recoiled form the darkness and bloodlust in their auras.

"Prince," One of the four mockingly greeted Býleistr.

Býleistr didn't understand how they knew he was the prince until he remembered his eyes. Only those of the royal family had eyes so bright a crimson. His eyes had given him away.

Ryg stepped in front of Býleistr too late, and raised his blade horizontally in front of him as warning. "Who are you?"

These were unfamiliar faces to him, but there were many newcomers for the festival. He mentally shushed his pups, and told them to stay back with Býleistr. They were too young yet to aid him in battle. Thankfully, they did so.

"Noble brat, you're not our concern," one of them called out to Ryg.

"Considering you just waltzed in her and scared my pups I think it is," Ryg challenged. "You four must have quite the bloodlust to make them react as they did."

"If you insist on trouble then you shall get it," another warned in a slurred accent that Ryg had never heard before. "We're only interested in the boy behind you."

Býleistr felt faint. That voice... that accent… he remembered it from his mother's death.

"Raiders," he whispered as his blade started to tremble. "You're Raiders."

The four Raiders smiled at Býleistr's declaration and Ryg's surprised reaction. It had been painfully easy for Forad's raiding party to enter Útgarðr. They changed from their furs and bone and kept their distance from each other so they weren't such a large group. It was all the disguise they needed.

They carried no weapons, and no one bothered to search them. Only the Asgardian-sized Jötnar carried steel. Unlike with other races there was no way to disarm a Jötunn from their ice weaponry, so no one tried.

Their smiles when Býleistr said the word "raider" made it obvious that Býleistr was correct, and it put Ryg on the defense. It was little wonder his pups had reacted as they had for they obvious did have bloodlust, and they wanted Býleistr. He had no idea what they were doing raiding, or what the Fel they were doing within the capital, but Ryg did not stand down.

"I'll take the trouble," Ryg assured them, and materialized a blade around his other hand as he elbowed Býleistr to stand back.

One of the Raiders collapsed to the ground unexpectedly, and one of the other four glanced at him just in time for the new attacker who had appeared to slash his claws through the air. A boomerang of shimmering silver magic flew from the claws and slammed into a raider's chest, tossing him into the wall like a toy. The attacker continued his move. Steel flashed in the light as he neatly dispatched the third Raider, and then spun in midair to kill the last of the four. He landed neatly on the floor, and the last two bodies slumped to the ground.

There was blood splattered across his face almost artistically, and the Jötunn seemed to relish in it as he smiled at them. "Hello you two, I think there is an attack."

The excitement at the prospect of killing more which laced the attacker's voice made Ryg cringe. He sounds like an Asgardian.

"Viddi," Ryg addressed the Jötunn who had just killed the Raiders as levelly as he could manage. "You have interesting timing."

Viddi gave an innocent child's smiled, and stood straight. On each arm were a pair of leather bracers and attached to them were three metal claws as long as his forearm. The claws were extended now over his wrist and fingers, dripping with red. They retracted back onto the bracers.

"Not just timing," Viddi corrected Ryg. "This is the second group I've come across."

"Second," Ryg hissed with widening eyes. "There are more Raiders loose?"

Viddi nodded, and his long raven black hair swayed with the movement. "I don't know how many though, and I doubt anyone else knows since there's no alarm."

Ryg remembered the alarm that had gone off briefly grimly. It hadn't been a Militia guardsman who had gotten drunk after all. Someone had managed to activate the alarm, but judging by how quickly it was shut off they must have been killed shortly after. Like Ryg, many people would assume that it wasn't anything to worry about.

"I thought they might be fun to play with," Viddi continued speaking to Ryg. "No one else is fun to play with since they die so easily."

Ryg pretended he hadn't just heard what Viddi had said, and asked instead. "Where did you encounter the other squad?"

"Back there," Viddi flicked a hand over his shoulder.

"They're probably still only on the lower levels," Ryg spoke quietly.

"How did they get past the shields?" Býleistr whispered softly and let his blade dissipate. "I thought those with bloodlust couldn't enter."

"The Casket's gone," Viddi told Býleistr in a straightforward voice. "Its aura was shielding the palace from harm, but it's gone."

"And the defenses with it," Ryg sighed. "Geez, most everyone is probably asleep already, and I doubt they were woken up by the alarm."

"You two go turn the alarm on," Viddi told them with a shooing motion made with his claws. "I'll play with our guests some more."

Viddi was one of the Asgardian-sized runts that Ryg had been thinking about earlier. Like all of his kin, called Rhutistics, Viddi had dark black hair and had metal weapons made of Vibranium with a crystal core. He was also similar to his kin by the way that he didn't have a conscience to speak up, or any real emotions. What made the Rhutistics so much more dangerous than other Jötnar was the fact that they, like Viddi, had not just natural instincts to kill but extremely powerful magic. The Rhutistics were actually the most powerful mages in the Nine Realms, if the rarest, and somewhat… over-powered.

As Ymir had created the Rhutistics to be, Viddi was a living breathing superweapon.

"Try to leave a few of them alive," Ryg informed Viddi. "I'm sure the others will want to hear from them."

Viddi tssked in a mimicry of irritation and jerked his head away. Leaving his opponents alive spoiled his fun. "I can _try_ , so stay back. If you fight, then there will be less for me to play with."

The words he spoke were a stark contrast to his young age, barely four centuries old, and the child's voice he spoke them in. His tone of voice he used as he spoke was similar to a child who had been told he could only have one sweet before dinner.

"We better go get your uncle," Ryg told Býleistr quietly as he looked away from Viddi, a dangerous move. "He might be able to raise the palace's defenses."

"That'll take time, won't it?" Viddi asked as if pleading for a second sweet.

Ryg nodded, and Viddi smiled with eager joy as if he had been told that he could have the second sweet.

"So I still have time to kill some more of them," Viddi said triumphantly.

The eagerness vanished suddenly and unpredictably as he turned his head back down the hallway and unclicked his claws. There was a slight hiss sound as the claws slid back out, and Ryg's pups began to react again. He had felt the bloodlust before the wolves this time, and he turned to face his new "playmates."

Ryg knew that Viddi's personality switch was because he was given the opportunity to kill and he did not want to miss it. He mutely scooped up all three pups with one arm and grabbed Býleistr's wrist, dragging the prince unceremoniously behind him as Býleistr looked at the blood and bodies left by Viddi in uncomprehending shock. Býleistr would snap out of the shock once they got far enough away, so Ryg kept dragging him.

While the two of them went up, Viddi quietly paced through the shadows of the hall to find the playmates he had sensed. He found the four Raiders quickly enough, and materialized a ward across the hallway in front of them. It looked like a shifting sheer curtain of silver stars, and the Raiders weren't quite able to stop before they crashed into it. Viddi had made it strong, so it was the equivalent of running into a wall.

Viddi stepped out of the shadows while the Jötnar recovered and shook off the ambush. "Will you be any fun?"

The Raiders gave a start when they heard the child's innocent question, and watched him approach in shock. They thought for a moment that the Jötunn had red skin, but soon realized that he was simply covered in so much blood it looked like he did. When he walked forward, the soles of his sandals left a red track behind on the dull blue-gray floor. His silver eyes that reflected his magic glittered, and blood dripped steadily from the three metal claws on each arm.

"Are you any fun?" Viddi asked them curiously, hopeful that they were. "I've never found someone whose fun to play with, and the other Raiders I saw were no fun either."

"Other… Raiders?" One of the four asked hesitantly.

Viddi looked up at them seriously. "They were no fun to kill, died too quickly."

"Rhutistic," one of the other Raiders whispered in horror and turned to try and break through Viddi's ward.

His effort made Viddi giggle, and he shook his head, splattering blood on the wall from his black hair. "You're too weak to. I can tell you won't be any fun to kill either, but I suppose I do get to kill."

Not just a Rhutistic, the Raiders realized, but a battle Rhutistic, and he appeared to be blood-touched. There was nothing more psychotic or dangerous then a blood-touched battle Rhutistic, not even the Dökkálfr's Kursed soldiers could stand against one. Young though he was and no bigger than an Æsir child, he was the equivalent of a small army and they were very much dead.

A moment later Viddi attacked them and they actually were dead. Viddi dismissed his ward and looked at the new bodies with disdain and disappointment. It was rare for a blood-touched battle Rhutistic to be born, and sometimes there was not even one born every generation. There had not been one among Laufey's troops during the War with Asgard four centuries ago, and that was one of the reasons why Laufey had lost.

"Not again," he grumbled to himself and walked off in a huff.

He charmed himself with an invisibility weave as he began to hunt for someone, anyone, who might satisfy him and lift his boredom. His hunt took him in the direction of the dining hall where he sensed a ripple of essence dripping in bloodlust that he had learned had belong to the Raiders. According to his magic, there were two in the room beyond.

"Where are they?" A voice snarled in a Raider's accent.

"We spotted on of the prince's briefly, but he's vanished within the castle," another Raider whined.

"Imbecile," the first snarled.

"I-I'm sorry Forad," the second Raider stuttered.

Viddi saw that first Raider grab the second and throw him to one side. The stunned Raider quickly stumbled to his feet and retreated.

"I am surrounded by worthless soldiers!" The first one named Forad growled darkly to himself.

"They don't look like soldiers," Viddi observed, making his voice echo with his magic.

He knew it would likely scare his target, and the fear made it more fun. Blood tasted sweeter when filled with fear. The Raider jumped and spun around, trying to locate the source of Viddi's voice.

"You don't look like you belong here either," Viddi continued in a child's scolding voice. "I won't mind if you're fun though. The other intruders died too quickly, so I didn't get to have any fun with them. Are you their leader, Forad?"

Forad stopped trying to find the source. This was magic, so his opponent was either a mage or a Rhutistic. He hoped it would be a mage because he had no illusions about defeating a Rhutistic. Ice crystallized around his hand.

"Come out whoever you are and fight," he challenged the echoing voice.

"You are the leader then," Viddi smiled as he walked inside.

He dismissed is invisibility as he hopped onto a table. His claws slid out as Viddi straightened and raised his void silver eyes at Foard. He hopped over the table and landed silently on the ground. He ended in a crouch, arms by his side.

"If you're the leader then you might be a little fun to fight before I kill you," Viddi declared in a happy voice.

Forad stepped back when he realized that his opponent was a Rhutistic. The young Rhutistic's smile, and the way the blood ran down his cheeks filled him with an unreasonable fear. It was obvious that he was a battle Rhutistic, but Forad could almost feel the blood oozing from this child's cursed soul. Was it possible that this child was a… a blood-touched?

Since Viddi had used his claws to kill the last few Raiders he opted for his magic to kill this one. He crossed his claws in front of his chest in an x-shape, and channeled a killhex through them. They reacted to his magical pulse, and the crystal core of the metal resonated with his magic so the claws began to glow silver. Then Viddi slashed his claws downward and an energy blast shaped like an 'x' exploded from his blades and shot at the Raider. Forad jumped aside, safely out of the way as the attack deeply scorched the wall behind him.

"You're fast at least," Viddi said.

He looked at Forad as if he were a bug that had caught his attention. That was about how Forad felt, and he started slowly backing up. If he could make it to the doorway then he might be able to lose this thing.

"No running," Viddi scolded him as he pulled his right arm back.

The claws on that arm glowed. He shoved the arm forward and three darts of silver light shot through the air and towards Forad. Forad jumped through a doorway, kicking the door closed and letting that get the scorch marks.

Viddi quickly went after Forad. Not very many could survive his attacks, but he was only using his magic. He wasn't trying to kill him yet. This Forad was creative though, so he might be fun. Maybe he wouldn't die as quickly as the others.

With a happy smile as if he was suddenly allowed to have a third sweet before dinner, he flicked his hand in front of him and the doors slammed open. There was no sign of Forad in the hallway. Viddi carefully paced down the hallway, magic extended out. This one _was_ fun, for Viddi love hide-and-seek.

Where was he? His magic chimed of a lifesign. There! Viddi pulled is arm back and slashed forward horizontally. This time it was a crescent of light that flew from the blade as someone stepped around the corner.

Viddi realized that it was not Forad at all, and ordered his magic to stop the slash an inch from the Jötunn's face. The Jötunn jumped back in shock.

"Oops," Viddi whispered, and canceled the attack and the ribbon of silver vanished. "I didn't know that was you father."

The Jötunn he had almost killed, General Mimir, glared at him. "Who did you think I was?"

"The leader of this raiding party," Viddi answered. "He's fun to play with. He wants to play hide and seek instead of tag like most do. He's good at the hiding part, I seem to have lost him."

"He would be," Mimir sighed. "Do you know who he is?"

"Forad," Viddi told him.

"Vasad's second," Mimir muttered. "Well, Forad must have slipped past you. Their attack's over, and they've scattered. I could use your help to round up what's left of them."

Viddi pouted a bit. "No, they're just basic soldiers. They're no fun to kill you. You can do it on your own."

Mimir swallowed back a retort, not wishing his son to become upset. "One of them might be fun to kill though. You'd never know unless you fought them."

Viddi thought about it, "all right. If you find Forad I want to play with him. He was able to dodge me. It would probably be fun to scatter his blood around."

Mimir forced a nod, not trusting himself to smile.

* * *

 **One word can sum up Viddi: monster. And a dangerous one at that. Forad really messed up to not take him into account. Blood-touched is just their way to refer to Viddi being a psycopath and someone who takes such joy in killing to try and lift his boredom. Vibranium is not just found on Earth either, and yes, Loki is a Rhutistic like Viddi.**

 **The War, the Ice War, and the War of 965 AD all refer to four centuries ago when Laufey fought Odin on Midgard. It's just different names for the same thing.**


	5. After The Blood's Fallen

Laufey was speaking with Mimir a few hours later, voice uneven with frustration from the Raider's unprovoked attack. What was perhaps more frustrating than the attack was the fact that Laufey had slept through it. In the past the Casket would have awoken him instantly to the trouble and probably given him a dose of energy to help, but he didn't have the Casket anymore and was far too sound a sleeper.

Slítas was sitting on the back of Laufey's throne nearby while Laufey was on the ground with Mimir. His ice crystals were a dark worried yellow. Like Laufey, he had not been awakened by the danger. Perhaps he had not awoken because Viddi's presence meant there hadn't been a real threat to the palace's safety, but like Laufey, Slítas still wished he had woken up.

Raiders. It was the word on everyone's mind.

Raiders. After a century of peace they were back.

Laufey was loath to cancel Midwinter's Eve, but until he knew for sure that all the Raiders had fled he couldn't risk another attack. Everyone understood, but no one was happy about it. Some were not happy that Laufey had allowed harm to befall Jötunnheim yet again, like he had allowed it to happen four centuries ago after starting The War.

"I hate being such a sound sleeper," Laufey complained quietly after Mimir finished his report. "How many did Viddi kill?"

"Three of their squadrons for a total of twelve, and he tried to kill Forad," Mimir answered.

Laufey looked up at Mimir with surprise. "Your son lost a fight?"

Slítas raised his head slightly, and tilted it to look up at Mimir curiously. He could inherently understand all languages, from the Asgardian's Allspeak to the Jötunn's, and he had heard multiple stories about Viddi. One of the most interesting rumors was that the child had never been defeated, and it didn't matter how many or who he fought. In fact, he was still trying to break that habit of killing those he defeated, even when they were members of Laufey's Militia.

"He lost track of his target," Mimir elaborated, wincing slightly at the reminder a blood-touched like Viddi was his son. "Forad managed to evade him."

"That's why Viddi's sitting on the roof, right?" Laufey mused and looked up at the ceiling as clear as glass. "He's sulking."

Mimir shrugged helplessly. He certainly couldn't control his son. When Viddi was younger, he thought he could, but Viddi had long since proven him wrong. Many saw having a blood-touched on their side as a good thing for it made them almost invincible and a blessing of sorts, but Mimir didn't.

"Býleistr is still upstairs?" Laufey asked.

Mimir nodded, "I've had both him and Helblindi confined to their quarters. They're uninjured."

Laufey believed Mimir when he said his nephews were fine, but it was troubling Forad would be able to get within the palace and target them.

"Are there any ideas how the Raiders managed to get inside the palace?" Laufey asked warily.

"Yes," Mimir said cautiously, but didn't elaborate.

"Such as…" Laufey tried to coax his friend to go on.

"The enchantments might not be strong enough anymore to keep them out," Mimir said slowly. "It's been too long since we've lost the Casket."

"Jötunnheim's lifeforce is dependent on the Casket," Laufey agreed. "The planet us unable to sustain life otherwise, and it has degraded, faster than I thought it would. Now the palace's isn't even safe from Raiders."

"Laufey," Mimir asked cautiously, not liking the tone Laufey was using. "How quickly has it?"

He knew that as one of Royal blood, Laufey would be able to tell what shape Jötunnheim's lifeforce was in.

"Quickly enough that in a few centuries I don't know how habitable Jötunnheim will be," Laufey said with a careless tone.

Mimir flinched unexpectedly at Laufey's words and stared at his king. Life on Jötunnheim had never been easy, but Laufey thought they weren't going to be able to survive here soon? That chilled him.

Slítas had been looking between Mimir and Laufey as they spoke, and now let his hood droop. Although he had spent some time recently on Asgard, Jötunnheim would always be his home. As a Royal, Laufey could sense the state of Jötunnheim's lifeforce. He believed that Jötunnheim would soon be as dead as Svartalfheim? Impossible…

"This won't be the Raiders only strike either," Laufey said assuredly. "They'll return. I need my Casket back."

"It's too well guarded to take it," Mimir sadly corrected.

"What about the Jewel?" Laufey asked suddenly, "the Icefall Jewel."

"That would be easier," Mimir admitted. "But we can't even get to Asgard to try and take it."

Slítas hissed and shook his head at Mimir. He admired the Jötunn's determination, but they were on the wrong train of thought.

Laufey smiled as an idea clicked. "Why Mimir, I do believe you're sounding like a Raider. Why take something when you can ask for it?"

"What?" Mimir asked.

Confusion illuminated his features and his dark red eyes.

"Asgard is supposed to be the protector of all the realms, correct?" Laufey asked and then went on without giving Mimir a chance to respond. "But it hasn't been doing that. It's been letting the realms kill each other because as they get weaker, Asgard will remain strong. Maybe we should make Asgard do as it should."

Slítas laid his head down on one of the coils of his body satisfactorily. That was better.

"What are you saying?" Mimir asked carefully.

"I'm saying I need volunteers to go to Asgard, and an ambassador." Laufey smiled as the sudden and insane plan took form in his form.

Mimir looked at him as if he had just gone mad. "We've tried to be diplomatic with Asgard before to no avail. The only thing they understand is killing. They proved that in our war with them."

"The Asgardians no longer have an Infinity Stone," Laufey pointed out. "Without the Tesseract they do not have the unstoppable power of a god at their fingertips. There are many things I can say about Odin, but I do not count him for a fool. The Tesseract was instrumental in defeating us in the War of 965. I wonder how eager Odin will be to fight us, or anyone, without it."

Mimir thought about it for a moment, and then admitted warily. "A fair point, but who do you have in mind to send to Asgard and speak to Odin? It can't be you."

"No," Laufey agreed. "There too much bad blood and a missing eye. I do have an idea who, but you won't like it."

"Laufey, I don't like anything about this situation," Mimir grumbled. "Whoever goes there will be out of our protection. We won't be able to help them. Asgard could very easily find an excuse to kill them."

Laufey winced knowing Mimir's words weren't helping as he announced the name of his ambassador, "Hӕra."

"What!" Mimir shouted, standing straight instead of leaning against the wall. "You want to send my wife to Asgard!" His voice dissolved into a hiss.

"Hӕra is the bet ambassador I have," Laufey offered. "She can fight perfectly well."

"I am not worried about her fighting skills, I am worried that Asgard will murder her like the monsters they are!" Mimir's voice got louder.

"If anyone knows what monsters the Æsir are, I do," Laufey growled, closing the distance between the two of them. "I know. My wife and son paid the price in order for me to learn."

Mimir lowered his eyes.

"I would just as soon wipe out all of the Æsir, but I will not do anything that puts any of my people in unneeded harm, not again." Laufey snapped in a cold voice, and then stopped, taking a breath to calm himself. "Even if I can't get the Casket back, I need that Jewel. Hӕra is the most qualified to get it. If I get it I can reinforce the shields around the palace. The Raiders will not be so eager to cause trouble once I have it."

Mimir didn't respond. He knew Hӕra would agree to this.

"If you want a bloodbath then call your son down and tell him we're organizing a strike force to attack Asgard." Laufey said with lessening patience. "Viddi loves to kill as a blood-touched. He'll gladly come along."

Mimir glared at him.

Laufey continued, and this time his tone was a bit gentler. "Mimir, you're like kin to me. I wouldn't put Hӕra in undue harm. There's no guarantee Odin will even allow an ambassador. I have to try something to deal with the Æsir. I tried war once and that didn't work, so I have to try something else."

Slítas's hood flared as he suddenly got an idea. As much as he liked being home he realized that he wanted to go back to Asgard and Loki. If the Jötnar went to Asgard then maybe he could go with them.

Mimir shook his head and sighed. "You do know that the chances of this working successfully are less than the raid, right?"

Laufey grimaced, "I know."

* * *

Heimdall had told Odin of the Raiders brazen attack on Laufey's palace, but this was an internal affair and Asgard had no need to intervene. As far as Odin was concerned, if Laufey could not control his own realm then that was his fault. There was no need to risk Asgardian lives. Odin did not expect the communication when it came.

Through a complex web of spells called The Link, Odin was able to use Gungnir to communicate with the other leaders of the Realms. An image of the leader would be projected into his throne room and they could communicate as easily as if they were actually standing there. Vice versa, an image of Odin on his throne would appear before the other leader.

Normally, Heimdall activated the Link through Bifrost to give information when needed. This time, it was a leader contacting _him_. Odin half-expected it would be so they could gloat about how they now had the Tesseract. Any thought of that vanished when Gungnir glowed, and Odin opened the link.

Due to the Link's distortion, Laufey's image was not life sized, and was scaled to an Asgardian. Odin straightened in his throne in shock. The signal to open the Link _had_ been from Jötunnheim as Heimdall had warned him.

"Laufey," Odin swallowed, keeping his voice calm and collected. "Why have you contacted me?"

"Your pet watchdog will have told you of the Raiders attack." There was no question in Laufey's voice.

"Little escapes Heimdall's eyes," Odin vowed, "including your proposal. None of your kin shall come to Asgard."

"Do you lead the Nine Realms or not I wonder?" Laufey asked.

Although his voice was smooth as quick-silver there was an edge to it. It was not spoken as if it was a question.

"I do," Odin said strongly. "Will you challenge that again?"

"Yes," Laufey replied bluntly.

Odin leaned back in surprise. Laufey's personality had switched from taunts to business. "Oh?"

"You say you protect the Nine Realms, and yet you steal our artifacts and then stand by as we tear each other apart," Laufey sneered. "Unless you want a war, I suggest you hear me out."

"That is a serious threat," Odin warned. "One you cannot back up alone."

"No," Laufey agreed, "not alone. You have forsaken all of the realms. Vanaheim, Muspelheim, you let Svartalfheim die. I do believe that if something sparks it, a war will catch fire."

"I do not want your people on my realm," Odin warned, "and they shall not come."

"You should be pleased," Laufey told him, his voice smooth again as if trying to smooth Odin's feathers. Something about its tone ruffled them more, and Odin suspected that was done purposely. "I decided to try diplomacy instead of a raid."

"I will never return your Casket," Odin vowed. "You would only start another war with that."

"I may yet anyway," Laufey challenged. "Fortunately for you, I do not want the Casket. It would be too great a strain to ask for the _jewel_ of _your_ vault."

"What do you want then?" Odin asked, dreading the response.

"The Icefall Jewel."

"Out of the question," Odin responded immediately.

"You may not wish to be so quick in your response," Laufey warned. "I ask for Rite of Safe Passage."

The two kings glared at each other, neither willing to back down.

Odin knew he would have to give into Laufey's request. He could not allow this challenge to go unanswered and yet, this was not a challenge he could respond to with a show of force. If he turned away Laufey's claims, then he invited dissent. Laufey had spoken his words with care. It was phrased not to as a challenge, but as a reminder that Jötunnheim was a protectorate of Asgard.

If Odin did not do this, then Laufey will have the excuse he needed to cause trouble. That could split the realms. Odin did not want that. Jötunnheim was the first to challenge Asgard's policy of ignoring the internal struggles of the realms.

If Jötunnheim succeeded in its complaint and Asgard did return its relic, then other realms might ask the same. Asgard might be forced to return other relics, and in doing so strengthen the other realms. If he turned them down then it could mean war. Realms, Laufey was as smooth a talker as Loki!

It came down to which of the evils he wanted to pick. Which one to pick…

* * *

 **Loki actually resembles his real parents a lot, you'd be surprised how much since he wasn't raised with them. As said in the summery the Frost Giants are coming to Asgard, and the war is going to get dragged along with them. I am a little curious about the situation Loki's going to get into since he's a Frost Giant and there are some coming. All it takes is a single touch from one of the visitors and Odin's game is up. Then again, Loki's magic isn't being the most useful right now so he might not even survive a full-fledged war.**


	6. An Unexpected Development

Sigyn rubbed her hands together in an attempt to return the feeling to them. She had recently healed some of the boys after sparring lessons had gotten out of hand, and the spells had left her hands numb. Fey said nothing about it, but Sigyn could tell her aunt was impressed with her. It warmed her.

She tucked a bit of her corn-gold hair behind her ear, and left the storage room where she had been replacing the runic crystals she had used to aid her focusing her magic. As she walked outside of the storage room she froze with a choking noise. Standing in the doorway of the medical ward was Loki. He had a shy look as he hated asking for help and appearing weak, but Sigyn instantly saw that he was holding one of his hands to his chest. Sigyn's lilac eyes widened, and she swallowed when she saw he was hurt.

Sigyn approached him calmly despite her urge to move quicker, making it look like no big deal to avoid attracting attention as she knew Loki would appreciate. Loki greeted her with a smile, making two sports of pink appear on her cheeks.

"Hey Sig," Loki said and held his sore hand towards her. "One of my spells recoiled and it twisted the nerves. Can you help?"

Sigyn nodded strongly, the soreness of her hands forgotten as Loki raised his injured hand to her. Still blushing, Sigyn took it in her own. Loki's hands were always cool to the touch, but now they seemed to have a biting cold as if they had recently been dunked in ice water. Despite the unnatural chill, she did not flinch away.

"This wound is old, "Sigyn said and flickered her eyes at Loki without raising her chin.

Loki looked away pointedly.

Sigyn sighed. "Why didn't you come right after you'd hurt yourself? You didn't twist your nerves Loki, you burned your own magic. It won't heal quickly or painlessly, not without healing magic. Right now, you couldn't use your magic well enough to heal it either and it creates a troublesome paradox."

"My mistake," Loki apologized.

Sigyn was amazed to hear Loki apologize since he so rarely did so, sincerely anyway. His voice was sincere this time though. A mist like aura of soothing lilac healing magic appeared around her fingers and encompassed Loki's wrist as she said the healing words, this one being advanced enough to need words. She said them under her breath, but loud enough that Loki could hear them. He had a good enough memory to remember them, and he might have a use for it later.

Once the magic faded out of the visible spectrum and Sigyn reluctantly let go of Loki, he wiggled his fingers. They responded, and when he flicked his wrist and snapped his fingers a small magical flame appeared. He nodded in relief, and dismissed the fire charm.

Loki nodded thanks without saying it, and Sigyn smiled in return. She managed this without making a fool of herself since she was able to focus on healing the wounds instead of her patient's identity.

"Now you know how to recognize self-burn," Sigyn informed Loki. "You should rest for an hour before you try casting any more spells."

Her silvery voice was no longer quiet, but strict and matter-of-fact. It was a tone all good healers took when they were speaking to their patients. The identity of their patient wouldn't soften their tone as a healer outranked everyone, even the Allfather, on medical concerns.

"Yes sir," Loki promised, aware that arguing with a healer was one of the worst and most dangerous things a person could do. "I thought self-burns are hard to heal. That didn't take you very long though."

"Self-burns are hard for the _inflicted_ mage to heal," Sigyn corrected, "since using _their_ magic is painful. A _second_ mage can heal it far easier."

With the injury gone, Sigyn was focusing more on Loki again and her blush had returned.

"Good to know," Loki mused, and glanced sideways at Sigyn with a smile. "Soon you'll be better then you aunt."

Loki's teasing didn't help Sigyn's calm, and she looked at him in stupefied surprise. "B-better then Fey?"

Sigyn shook her head no briskly, and turned away from Loki in embarrassment to tidy the herbs she had been working with before she had healed the sparring group. In a few minutes, she knew her heartbeat and blush would calm down. Why was it she could never maintain her calm around Loki? She would never manage a conversation with him at this rate.

"Don't you ever get any time off?" Loki asked her in amusement when she went back to sorting and cleaning up.

"What do you mean?" She asked him innocently.

Loki chuckled softly, looking briefly at the floor and then at her in amusement. "Every time I see you Sigyn you're either in here or doing something related to it."

"I'm just an apprentice," Sigyn told him softly. "I have much to learn."

"Too much of anything isn't good," Loki reminded her.

When she didn't answer and kept gathering the herbs and reached for a mortar and pestle. It was out of her immediate reach so Loki picked it up and handed it to her so she didn't have to waste her magic. She hesitated for a brief moment before quietly taking it from his hands, fingers brushing. The contact made her skin feel unnaturally hot, and she put it on the counter in front of her and began adding various leaves and flower petals in according accordance to a memorized potion.

Loki silently watched her work, and his powerful gaze seemed to pierce to her very soul. There was something very knowledgeable and mature in his dark eyes, and it lacked the naïveness that should brighten a child's eyes. Mages grew up quickly, but none had quite the look in eyes like Loki had.

"There isn't much for me to do otherwise," Sigyn told him. "Girls aren't allowed to get schooling, so we don't have near the distractions you boys do."

"Mages are," Loki pointed out. "They need the education to be able to manage their magic and be a worthwhile asset."

"Mages only get schooling in Vingólf, the mage's hall," Sigyn corrected, "not here in Gladsheimr."

"Then go to Vingólf," Loki encouraged Sigyn. "Or you could go for a walk across town, or read a non-healing related book. It's like you said. There's quite a bit of downtime here. I think they could spare you for a few hours."

Sigyn shook her head in amusement, and poured a vial of spring water into the mixture. It looked like Loki might continue to pry at her to take some time off when he raised his chin slightly, and Sigyn sensed more then saw Loki's attention be diverted away from her. He hung his head with a sigh, although Sigyn didn't know what he had sensed. After a few seconds she heard approaching footsteps and saw a blonde blur dressed in crimson and grey, his clothing threaded with gold. Now she understood Loki's exasperation.

"Brother!" Thor called out loudly as he spotted Loki and rapidly approached him, causing the exact thing Loki wished to avoid – a scene.

"What did you break now Thor?" Loki sighed deeply and crossed his arms over his chest. "Your collarbone or some ribs?"

"What?" Thor asked, confusion instantly painting his bright eyes, "neither. You won't believe who father just spoke to."

He was out of breath as if he had run all the way across the palace, and his excitement was genuine.

"Oh," Loki asked dryly, not taking him seriously. "Who?"

Thor said one word that snapped both Loki and Sigyn to attention, "Laufey."

Loki and Sigyn felt each other's surprise and exchanged stunned looks. They both stared at Thor intently, silently cueing him to continue. Thor smiled, relishing in having Loki look up to him and be hanging onto his every word like he used to do. He hadn't done that since he had started learning magic.

Thor took a breath to build suspense and then announced. "The Jötnar are coming to Asgard."

"What?" Loki hissed quietly.

Sigyn took a step back against the counter. All of the stories she had heard about the Jötnar as a child came racing back, and she put a hand over her mouth. They were coming _here_?

"I don't know any more of the details, and father wants to see you us," Thor informed Loki. "He says he's going to explain to both of us."

Loki had been avoiding his parents ever since he had sent Slítas home, but it seemed his seclusion was over. This took priority.

"I'm coming," Loki promised Thor, and glanced back at Sigyn briefly. "I'll fill you in later."

"Bye," Sigyn said quietly, unable to voice the rest of her thoughts in time.

She watched as Thor and Loki quickly left the ward, and then looked back at her work, unable to muster up enough concentration to finish it.

Thor was walking a fast pace, nearly running, but Loki kept pace with him easily. He noticed from their course that they weren't heading outside. Tartly, he supposed that was a small mercy, wishing he could wander the snow-covered grounds without feeling the slightest chill as he was normally able to do.

Loki was listing off the things in this part of the palace and trying to guess where they were going, and was only mildly surprised to see the open doors to their father's throne room, Valaskjálf. Odin often held court or other business that the children weren't expecting to partake in, and were in fact often shooed away. It was rare for them to be inside, and Loki found the new change of scenery agreeable.

He took care to hold his tongue once they entered Valaskjálf. Odin was not on his throne, Hlidskjálf, looking down on his people for once. He was instead on ground level speaking with General Tyr. Their father was obviously busy, and as both brothers had been rigorously taught not to interrupt their father when he was busy in Valaskjálf they hovered by the doorway. After a few minutes of this with Thor bouncing on his toes from barely contained energy and Loki was silently thinking over the implications of this, Tyr saluted and left, and Odin waved his sons over.

"I brought him father," Thor announced proudly and glanced at Loki once the brothers saluted to Odin.

They weren't expected to kneel since they were princes and boys, but they had to show their father proper respect while they were in a public area.

"Good," Odin said and looked his sons over. "First, I will tell you that this is not an invasion nor is it a reason to panic. It is only a group of five, one ambassador and four guards."

Neither child seemed to be panicking, although Odin wasn't surprised by their nerve. Thor looked more exciting than anything, and Loki's was as usual too difficult to read. If anything, he looked intrigued and curious about the unfolding events.

"An ambassador," Loki repeated in surpirse. "I didn't know they had ambassadors."

"They do," Odin corrected. "They will be under surveillance the entire time, and won't be staying for more than a few days."

Thor pursed his lips as their father explanation. "Why are those monsters coming?"

Loki wasn't sure, but he thought he saw a brief glimmer of satisfaction flash through Odin's eye when Odin called the Jötnar monsters. He thought he must have imagined it, and dismissed it.

"Asgard is the protector of the other realms, and Laufey has asked for Rite of Safe Passage for an ambassador," Odin told the boys.

"So what?" Thor frowned, "they don't deserve that."

Loki elbowed his brother at his tart tone. "Father doesn't have a choice here Thor. It's politics."

Thor knew he was missing something, and looked to Loki for answers as he always did.

Loki explained the situation in depth before his father could speak. "The Rite is one of the basic rules the Asgardian throne is founded on. If father doesn't agree to it then he could jeopardize Asgard's place as leaders of the realms. He had to do it _this_ time, but he can refuse Laufey's request if he invokes it _again_ as long as he honored the first. Like I said, politics."

Odin was amazed that someone as young as Loki understood the situation so well, and a little frustrated that Thor still looked confused.

"Correct," Odin said grudgingly.

Loki flinched internally at the irritation in his father's voice and a flicker of discontent flashed across his eyes. Why did his father have to snap at him again? He was right about this, wasn't he?

"So we only have to have them here once, and then not again?" Thor asked.

"Yes," Odin promised him.

Odin was upset because Loki had figured this out before Thor. The thought was like a slap to Loki. His father didn't like the fact that he had outshone Thor. Loki felt his anger spike. His brother was older and a warrior, but he wasn't any better than Loki. He didn't deserve to be favored by father!

No, Loki told himself before his magic responded to his emotions and snapped at someone. He needed to stop. If he should be upset with anyone it was with Odin, not Thor. Thor hadn't done anything to Loki, he was just Thor. Odin was the one reacting like this. It was almost like he was purposely trying to play Loki against Thor, but why would he do that?

"You boys will need to behave yourselves," Odin addressed all his sons sternly.

He glanced at Loki pointedly, and Loki gave him an innocent look. This was one time where he had no intention of causing mischief.

"They'll be here Friday, and I don't want you anywhere near them." Odin continued relaying his orders. "There is always the possibility that this is an elaborate plot so the Jötnar can kill you. You'll be there to greet them and nothing more."

Loki nodded, agreeing that this made sense. "Do we tell our cousins?"

"Of course," Odin agreed. "I don't want rumors spreading, only facts."

Baldur Vráison and his younger brother Hodr were not princes, but were still heirs to Asgard's throne. Their mother was Frea, Frigga's younger sister. This made them the cousins of Thor and Loki. As Odin's brothers were dead and Frea was Frigga's only sister, the brothers and their parents were the only other direct members of the royal family. Baldur and Hodr, from older brother to youngest brother, were third and fourth in line for the throne with Thor and Loki being the first and second.

"Will we have to go to lessons Friday?" Thor asked.

Loki rolled his eyes, aware that only Thor could be worried about lessons in these circumstances.

"No lessons for any of the noble children," Odin informed Thor, making Thor brighten instantly. "I don't want all of the noble children in one place. You will have free time until they leave as long _as you keep away from them_. Understand?"

He piercing one-eyed gaze swept over the two, and they chorused respectfully, "yes father."

Odin kept his gaze on them for a second more and the nodded. "Good, you two are dismissed."

* * *

Fandral had wandered inside Gladsheimr, a commoner like him allowed inside only because he was one of Prince Thor's closest friends. He was looking for Thor or Hogun, both of whom lived inside the palace, when he nearly crashed headfirst into Baldur and Hodr. He wasn't expecting to see the prince's cousins, and they were speaking rapidly to each other.

"Fandral," Hodr greeted with his usual light hearted smile, eyes ironically colored royal blue. "Have you heard?"

"Heard what?" Fandral frowned.

He had only just arrived in the palace, and although he had noticed things were abuzz he hadn't gotten any obvious ideas. It was obvious that something was happening.

"There are Jötnar coming!" Baldur interrupted with an energy mirroring Thor's. "Lots of them! With Laufey!"

"WHAT!" Fandral shouted and took a skittish step back as he tried to process the information.

"No," Hodr interrupted Baldur before Fandral started having a panic attack. "Laufey's not coming, but there several Jötnar."

"I know that," Baldur promised with a smile. "I just wanted to see his reaction."

Hodr lightly hit his brother's arm, and Baldur grinned.

"Hold," Fandral ordered as the news sank in. "You're jesting about Laufey, but there are really Frost Giants coming?"

"Hold," Fandral ordered Thor's cousins as the news sank in. "You are jesting about Laufey, but there are Frost Giants coming?"

The brothers nodded, and Baldur said, "Thor just old us. Loki vanished, as usual, and I have no idea where the pipsqueak went."

"He's a mage," Hodr shrugged, "mages are good at that. A mage for as one of the princes, I'm still getting used to that."

Baldur felt a little twinge of jealously when his brother mentioned Thor and Loki were the princes. Thor was a moron, and Loki was a weakling. Neither of them deserved to be princes.

The news was still sinking in for Fandral so all he managed to say was, "good to know."

* * *

 **All of the fancy germanic names for places are taken straight from Norse mythology. I prefer to take things from Marvel or Norse mythology for my fanfiction instead of pulling them out of thin air. On that note, I realized that Sigyn has been two-dimensional up until this point. I hate characters like that so I will try to give her some depth.**


	7. Difference of Opinion

The Healer's Ward was mostly empty, and Loki and Sigyn sat on an empty bunk. Fey and the other healers had listened intently while Loki had explained to Sigyn the news about the Jötnar, but with his tale finished they now returned to work.

"Today's the end of Thursday, so there's only three days until they come," Sigyn said thoughtfully and looked at her hands in her lap. "That's not very long."

"No it's not," Loki agreed. "I guess father must be eager to get this over with. I can't say I blame him since it's the Frost Giants."

Sigyn didn't answer, and Loki hopped off the bunk. Loki had informed Sigyn of what was going on as he had promised, and he had a few things he wanted to do before the Jötnar arrived. For one thing, he needed to practice with his blades. Sif – a weak maiden of the court who had never handled a sword before – had sliced his shoulder open. The Jötnar were a far greater threat then Sif, and Loki didn't want to be carried into the Healer's ward again.

"Are you going to practice before the Jötnar come?" Sigyn guessed.

Loki gave a slightly baffled look and said tensely, "yes."

He didn't like the fact that Sigyn was able to read him so well. Sigyn smiled at Loki.

"What?" Loki asked her with a snap to his voice.

"You're quite a warrior," Sigyn assured him. "Although you don't fight with a sword and armor like everyone expects you to, you're still amazing. Most Æsir your age wouldn't be training so hard."

"I'm usually training with my magic." Loki muttered and looked away. "Training with my blades is secondary."

Sigyn realized that Loki seemed to be embarrassed, and she started to get embarrassed. She hadn't meant to put him at unease.

"Will you be alright?" Sigyn asked Loki worriedly. "While the Jötnar are here, the Barriers will actively suppress their ice magic so they aren't a threat. You were born with elemental ice magic, so it may affect you as well."

"I'm not Jötunn," Loki reminded Sigyn, "but I suppose my magic and theirs are both ice elemental. I'll have to wait and see."

He waved bye, and Sigyn said as much. Then he left and waltzed along the hallways, turning Sigyn's words over in his mind. She might have a point about the Barriers, and that intrigued him. When the Barriers were active his ice magic could be suppressed like the Jötnar. If it was subdued then it wouldn't be so powerful. Loki might be able to safely experiment with it without causing an ice age, and figure out the proper technique to use to control it even once it was back to full power.

A Star Guard entered from the courtyard, opening the doors as he entered and closing them behind him. There was a frigid breeze that whipped a flurry of snowflakes inside, and the chill made Loki shiver pathetically. He was forced to tug his jacket closer and quicken his pace. Normally he wouldn't even need a jacket in such mild temperatures.

As far as Loki was now concerned, the Jötnar couldn't arrive soon enough.

* * *

Freyja was sitting in front of the oval shaped mirror in her vanity, quietly focusing with her eyes closed and her cloak of falcon feathers draped over the back of the chair she sat on. The surface of her mirror was fogged over as if there was a cloud trapped behind the glass, but it cleared after a few seconds. She opened her eyes and smiled when she saw someone looking back at her. It was a Vanir with very similar features to Freyja, and it looked as if he were sitting across a table from her instead of speaking through a scrying mirror from another realm.

"Hello sister," he greeted Freyja with a smile.

"Freyr," Freyja returned his greeting with a small smile of her own. "You said you wished to speak to me?"

"Ah, yes," Freyr nodded, sitting in front of his own desk by his own mirror. "I have heard a very interesting story."

"Oh?" Freyja asked in amusement. "Whatever could that be?"

"Something about Jötnar coming to Asgard," Freyr said nonchalantly.

Freyja gave her twin brother an exasperated look. "Truly? _How_ did you already hear about that? I only found out an hour ago myself. You're on Vanaheim, a different realm then me!"

"The wonders of the grapevine," Freyr shrugged and gave his sister one of his bright smiles.

Freyja gave him a cross look, and then relaxed it. "Yes, there are Jötnar coming here. Five, an ambassador and four guard."

"Not two guards?" Freyr said in surprise and leaned back. "Isn't that the usual for brief diplomatic visits? Don't tell me they're staying longer than a few hours."

Freyja sighed deeply, accepting the sheer level of power the grapevine possessed and moving on. "I have no idea. Four guards is for overnight visits, so I guess they are staying for some time. Are you worried about Hogun?"

"He is a member of Vanaheim's royal family," Freyr reminded his sister, "and our nephew. Right now, you and him are on Asgard, which might suddenly not be so safe."

"I'm not worried about a mere five Jötnar," Freyja dismissed. "They have no mages to counter my magic, so they're a nuisance at best. I'm sure they're aware of how badly they're outnumbered so I doubt they'll be out to cause trouble."

"Fair enough," Freyr mused, "although for once I wish that I was on Asgard."

"What?" Freyja mused tartly. "You regret your visit back to Vanaheim?"

"An hour after I left to return home, Nira steals the Tesseract and Prince Loki regains control of it." Freyr pointed out. "It's been one thing after the next there. That's where all the fun is."

Freyja scowled at her brother at his whiney tone at missing out on "all the fun." Freyr shrugged innocently.

"What happened to Nira?" He asked softly after a few seconds.

"She was caught in a collapsing portal," Freyja murmured. "I've tried to speak to Hogun but he doesn't wish to talk about what his sister did. He's always been quiet, but now it's hard to coax even a sentence from him."

"Nira was family," Freyr leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms behind his head, looking up at the ceiling as he spoke. "Of all her siblings, Nira was always fondest of Hogun. Now she's killed their mother, older sister, and tried to kill him and the youngest sister. I suppose it is lucky that Hogun and Vör managed to survive her wrath."

Freyja didn't say anything, regretting that she hadn't been able to stop her niece from her slaughter. She and Freyr were the children of Njörd and Nerthus, the past rulers of Vanaheim. Their older sister Kyi had become queen after Nerthus had retired, and she had had four children, three girls and one boy. Nira was the second oldest daughter, and wanted the throne, so she had killed her mother and older sister.

Despite her attempts otherwise, Hogun, the only son, and Vör, the youngest daughter, had managed to survive. Because inheritance was passed along the maternal line, Vör, as Kyi's only surviving daughter, was queen. Kyi's wife was serving as Vör's regent until she was old enough to rule, but she was currently less than three centuries old.

Hogun remained on Asgard so the two remaining heirs of Vanaheim were not together, but he had not been thrilled about remaining until Nira was brought to justice. Perhaps with Nira's death, he could return home. Freyja hoped so, for that might be the only way to coax him out of his silence. When Nira had snapped, Vör and Hogun had been smuggled to Asgard with them was Brísingamen to keep all three out of Nira's reach. The necklace with jewels like embers was Vanaheim's equivalent of Gungnir, and worn only by the ruling queen. Nira had wanted it, but with her gone, Hogun could now return it to Vör when he went home.

"If you're scared of being bored why don't you come back to Asgard?" Freyja asked her brother and rested her head in one hand.

" _That_ sounds very tempting," Freyr sat straight and waved a finger at her. "I might take you up on that offer."

Freyja was glad that the subject had been moved away from their traitorous niece, and she smiled. "How are Hnoss and Gersemi?"

"Your daughters are fine," Freyr told her. "Hnoss was feeling well enough to sit outside today and Gersemi was pestering me again about Caliburn. I think you should let her see if it bonds to her as its guardian. She is becoming a stronger mage and I have seen her practice with a polearm. A spear suits her far better than a sword or a dagger."

Caliburn was the sister spear to Gungnir, and after the end of the Æsir/Vanir war that Vanaheim had lost, it had been given to Vanaheim in exchange for Freyja and Freyr to live on Asgard. Since the twins were the siblings of Queen Kyi they had become hostages meant to keep Vanaheim from causing trouble again. Freyja's husband Odr and her two infant daughters, Hnoss and Gersemi, had been left behind on Vanaheim and Freyja had not seen them since.

Oh, she had seen her daughters through a scrying mirror, and Freyr would tell her about them whenever he got back from a visit to Vanaheim, but she had yet to see her daughters in person since she had left them three centuries ago. Freyr was allowed to return home because he was a simple warrior, nothing like Freyja, the strongest mage currently alive within the nine realms.

"Gersemi is young," Freyja said cautiously, "but I don't know the extent of her skill. Caliburn's power can only be unlocked by a mage, so if you think she is strong enough you could let her see if it accepts her."

"She will be ecstatic about that," Freyr assured Freyja.

Would she? Freyja didn't know if she would. Freyr should know what he was talking about hopefully. Her brother knew her daughters better than she did, and that troubled Freyja. Perhaps with Nira gone she could also return home and finally see her daughters. Hnoss was too weak to handle interrealm travel and Gersemi would never leave her behind, so Freyja had no choice but to go to her daughters.

The question was if Asgard would be sympathetic enough to let her. Freyja honestly wasn't sure if Odin would approve a visit as he had allowed for Freyr. _She_ was Asgard's prize for defeating Vanaheim, not her brother.

"Vör had a vision an hour ago," Freyr added.

"Really?" Freyr breathed in excitement. "Vör is a Seer? She really had a glimpse of the future?"

"It made her pass out and she hasn't woken up yet," Freyr smiled. "I suppose it's the shock of the first vision. We'll find out what she saw when she awakens."

Vanir were known for their prophetic ability, and those with this ability were called Seers. Their visions came and went as they pleased, and they, so to speak, warned the Seer of some of the "bad surprises" heading their way. No one was sure how Seers got their visions. Was it a quirk of Seer magic that let them randomly see glimpses of the future in the time stream? Were they _sent_ by an Elder God to guide the mortals, by the three Norns that dwelled within the Well of Urd, or by Yggdrasil itself to protect those it sheltered within its branches? No one, not even the Seers, knew.

"That gift will suit Vör well when she becomes queen," Freyja agreed.

"You should have seen Gná when Vör collapsed," Freyr chuckled. "She was the one who caught her. Gersemi couldn't stop staring. I think they both thought Vör was dying or something."

Freyja couldn't help but laugh lightly as Freyr broke out into louder laughter. "So Gersemi and Gná are still getting along. Good."

"Gná is a good person," Freyr assured Freyja, aware that she had never met Gná before. "She is a skilled equestrian as well, a field Gersemi lacks in."

"Gersemi will learn," Freyja nodded. "From what you've told me she's a quick learner."

"She is," Freyr nodded.

Freyja felt a pain in her heart at the conversation. Her sister and one of her nieces were dead, Nira was rogue hunting to kill her remaining family, Freyr was friendly although he seemed to be somewhat distant towards Freyja and she didn't understand why, Freyja had never been allowed to spend time with her daughters whom were growing up quickly, Hogun was stranded here on Asgard with Freyja, and Brísingamen was in Freyja's custody instead of with Vör as it should be. Vanaheim's royal family could not be any more fractured, and now the Jötnar were coming to Asgard. This situation was not what Freyja would call optimum.

* * *

 **Two different viewpoints from two different people. Considering the situation, Freyja's caution is probably better warranted. In my story universe Asgard is not the only realm and the Asgard's royal family and Thor's friends are not the beings. The other eight realms do play roles, and right now, it's Vanaheim and Jotunnhiem.**

 **Jotunnheim is more important to the story then Vanaheim right now, but you should remember that Nira is _not_ dead as everyone presumes. Vanaheim will become a battlefield before long. **


	8. The Raider's Plan

Buri Vasaddottir stood outside in the snow, watching a few flakes drift down from the fat grey clouds that hung overhead with a distant expression. She had come out of her catatonic state, but she couldn't remember what she had seen that had driven her into it in the first place. There was a gap in her memory, and Buri did not like it, but no matter how hard she thought about it, she couldn't remember what she had seen. It had to do with her father, but beyond that…

Buri tssked and looked down at the untouched white layer that covered the rocky slopes. Because her father was in a coma, Forad had taken over as the leader of the Raiders. He knew that Buri was technically in line to be the next leader, but she had given him permission to work on her behalf as her regent. A few snowflakes landed on the shoulders and hood of her drawn hood, making the fur that lined her hood glitter.

She wasn't altogether thrilled with Forad, but knew that he had more experience than she did. Thanks to his plan to raid Laufey's palace and kill Býleistr and Helblindi four squadrons had been killed. Each squad had four raiders so that meant sixteen raiders had been killed and both of the princes had survived. Buri found it difficult to believe that her father would have approved something so foolhardy before… before, and perhaps that was what bothered Buri about the situation.

Word was that three of the squadrons had been wiped out by a single Rhutistic boy about her own age. All Jötnar could form ice weapons and fight if the need arose, meaning that technically the Jötnar didn't have a civilian population. Since there were so many warriors most Rhutistics used their magic to become healers as there were never enough healers. This boy had not. There were few realmers more dangerous than a combat Rhutistic and none of the Raiders had known that there was a combat Rhutistic in the palace. If there had then they would never have attempted such a foolish attack.

She looked down at her mukluk boots. They were similar to high-top boots that most Asgardians wore, but made of fur and meant to keep her feet warm. Snow sparkled amid the white fur. With mechanical movements Buri knelt down and gathered a handful of the fallen snow into the palms of her gloves. Then she raised it to her lips and blew softly, stirring the snowflakes so they fell around her. Each one beautifully reflected the twilight dim light that had managed to pierce the clouds.

Without warning she briskly knelt and scooped up another handful of snow with determined motions. She had an idea to distract herself from her thoughts, and turned on her heel and reentered the cave. The temperature rose as she descended until it was in the negative 90's. Comfortably warm she pushed her hood onto her shoulders, her fire red hair tied back in a braid.

A few Jötnar passed her, also dressed in fur-edged leather from animal skins. They glanced at her when she said hello, reminding Buri of her new position as acting chief. It did not help cheer Buri, and she checked to make sure the snowflakes weren't melting. The snowflakes on Jötunnheim were so beautiful because it was in the negative triple digits, and with the temperature rising she feared they might begin to look more like frozen water and less like jewels.

Buri wondered down the winding, labyrinth like corridors within the mountains without worry. She knew her way around the innumerable tunnels and soon reached a tunnel that had doors of interlocking snowflakes on either side of it. This was a housing quarter and Buri walked to one of the doors.

She trailed a gloved hand vertically down the snowflakes near the middle, and the door's magic recognized her as being one of the occupants. The snowflakes dissolved and retracted into the walls, allowing Buri to walk inside. Once she entered the snowflakes recrystallized across the entrance.

Buri walked through the entrance room that also doubled as a kitchen, dining, and living room to one of three open doorways. Normally, members of a family would sleep in the same room and enjoy the body heat, but that couldn't be done in her case. Vasad had strange hours when he slept and when he awoke so he would constantly be waking them up, and her brother had his own reason for having to sleep alone.

"Brother?" Buri queried as she stood in front of the door to his small room.

There was movement inside on the large bed made of a bone frame and tied together with leather strips. Several furs heaped the bedframe and the top one moved as the bed's occupant stirred. Buri instantly regretted coming since it seemed her brother had been sleeping.

Her brother poked his head out from under the blankets and smiled when he saw her. "Sister!"

With a little effort he sat up partially and adjusted his pillows of elk fur stuffed with down so he could lean against them. He coughed as he did so and coughed his mouth with the back of one hand. Buri was by his side almost instantly, adjusting his pillows with her free hand so he could lean against them as he lacked the strength to sit up on his own.

"Thanks sis," he told Buri as he lay against the pillows.

He coughed again when he said that, a deep rattling cough that came from within his chest and lungs. Buri hid the snow behind her back with one hand. Concern for her brother overrode her earlier motive.

"You're coughing again Myk?" Buri asked in concern. "Do I need to get Midi?"

"No," her brother promised her seriously. "She's the only healer we have and she has plenty of other patients to tend, patients who will actually get better one day."

Buri looked down, one of bangs that had escaped her braid falling down from her forehead. Her brother, Myrkrida or Myk for short, reached up one of his arms and touched the bang of her soft and silky hair. The muscles in his arm quivered from the strain of the action.

"I'll be alright," Myk assured her. "It's just a cough. I know when I start to feel really bad."

Buri nodded, biting her lip nervously, concerned for her little brother. She thought back to her father in a coma. Myk was the only other family he had left and she didn't want to lose both of them at once. Her mother had died when Myk had been born, and he had been born premature. It had nearly been a miscarriage, and he had been born early enough that his muscles had simply never had a chance to develop. He couldn't even sit up in bed most days, let alone get up and walk around.

"Here," Buri said to distract herself. "I brought a present."

Myk tried to sit up on his own, and his thin body trembled form the strain. After a few seconds of trying, his weak muscles gave out and he flopped back against his pillows. He stuck out his tongue in annoyance.

Buri stood next to his bedside with a sad smile, and cupped her hands together. Her magic had kept the snow nice and cold. She blew gently, just as she had done outside. The snowflakes fell as if from clouds around Myk.

Myk's smile grew wider as the snowflakes fell around him, and he caught one on his tongue. He closed his eyes and let the snowflakes melt on his tongue with a satisfied hum. It was almost as if he was outside. Then he opened his eyes laughed, swatting at some of the snowflakes around him. The strain made his head hurt and his eyesight unfocus, but the young Jötunn didn't stop playing.

Buri stood a distance away so his game wouldn't be interrupted, but she could feel sadness bleeding into her heart. Myk had never known a life besides this one, trapped in his bed without the strength to stand. There were days where he could stand on his own, but they had been getting steadily further apart. He could do nothing but lie in bed and sleep. His only hints he had of the outside world were when Buri brought him snow, stones, or the occasional snowdrop flower, or when their father told them about the day's misadventures in leadership.

Seeing her brother in this condition and knowing that he was too weak to survive the cold and so was unable to go outside even if someone carried him, and was trapped within the bed hurt her. What hurt even more was what she had once overheard her father say once. He had said that Asgard's healers were likely knowledgeable enough to be able to restore Myk to health. Asgard would never heal a Jötunn though, so he would never get better. The means existed but the Asgardians would never help them. It was possible and yet impossible. Buri was barely ten years old by human time, and Myk only a little more than half her age.

Some Raiders even thought that giving food and supplies to a Jötunn that could give nothing in return was a waste. He should be left for nature to take his course. Thankfully Vasad hadn't listened to their suggestions, but was aware that their concern was valid. Since Buri was the elder child anyway, Vasad had agreed to make her his heir instead of Myk. Despite all of that though, he was still able to smile. He was stronger than Buri could ever imagine.

The snowflakes finally stopped falling and landed on the bed. Myk lowered his exhausted arms to the fur blanket's surface and smiled at Buri.

"Thanks," Myk told her sincerely. "Did it finally stop slowing?"

"Mostly," Buri told her brother and tried to fake a smile of her own.

"Smile please," Myk implored her, "like this."

He smiled again, but Buri could only give him a weak imitation. How could she do anything else when her brother was in the condition he was in.

"It's alright to smile," Myk promised her. "I'm glad you can go outside. You're really lucky."

Buri just wasn't able to smile, and she was suddenly aware that someone was approaching their quarters with the intent to enter it. It was a snippet from her sixth sense, and she looked over her shouler and through the open doorway to their quarters' door. An instant later, someone set their hand on the snowflakes and the snowflakes chimed a series of music notes, alerting her that a non-family member wished to enter.

Myk smiled, aware of what had just happened, and Buri called out, "Enter!"

As she had thought it was the right thing to do because Forad was the one who entered. Buri glanced at Myk but he made a shooing motion with one hand, so she turned away from him and walked out to greet Forad. She just couldn't bring herself to smile. Myk was exhausted after playing with the snowflakes, and closed his eyes as he leaned back to get some sleep.

"I thought you might be here," Forad mentioned once she approached, not even glancing Myk's way.

"What happened?" Buri asked, her awareness being its usual fickle self and not deigning to help her. "Has someone else been hurt?"

"Nothing like that," Forad assured her quickly and smoothly, "but something has come up."

"It's Laufey," Buri interrupted, suddenly aware of what Vasad was going to say."

She didn't phrase it as a question, but a statement. Her awareness had decided to appear again. It didn't deign to let her know what was happening, but something had. The fact that Buri was aware of something that was happening on Jötunnheim's equator when she was within its arctic circle unsettled Forad, for good reason.

"Y-yes," Forad agreed, stuttering slightly at her insight. "Laufey contacted Asgard."

"Asgard," Buri repeated and leaned back in surprise, not expecting that. "Why? I doubt Odin will send troops to reinforce Laufey's men and help them fight us."

The image that Buri conjured up was a comedic impossibility, and Forad couldn't help but smile a little at it. "Ah, no. He's managed to talk Odin into giving him a rite of passage to Asgard. I imagine that he'll want the Casket back but I don't know how he expects to get it. From what's been relayed, he's sending an ambassador to Asgard this Moon's Day."

"That's three days from now," Buri said softly and closed her eyes.

A few deep breaths in and out, counting seven seconds with every breath. Her heartrate slowed with her breathing, and Forad watched her with a mystified look as Buri tried to learn what was happening. There were tendrils of awareness, and then she suddenly knew.

She slowly opened her eyes, but their gaze was distant as if she were looking some place very far away. Her sight had drifted to Laufey's palace but it wasn't enough to see it. She needed to hear the conversation and so sent her hearing after her sight. It was as if she was standing next to Laufey for how easily she could see and hear him despite being so far away. Buri was ecstatic that this was working, having only practiced shifting her senses to different points within the caverns before.

"It's not the Casket that is Laufey's goal," Buri corrected Forad, "but the Icefall Jewel."

Forad swallowed and nodded at her statement, certain that it was correct. "You're getting better Buri. Soon you might have some control over your awareness."

"I hope so," Buri said softly.

She knew that she was far from having control over her abilities. If she had control then she wouldn't have gone catatonic and would be able to remember what she had seen. Her awareness only let her sense things when it wanted to, and she had no control over what she sensed or where. The very fact she had been able to focus on Laufey's palace was a miracle.

Forad was hoping that Buri wouldn't be able to control her awareness. If she did then she might be able to sense that he was the one who had tried and failed to kill Vasad. An idea suddenly struck him about Laufey and he smiled, lips pulling back from his fangs.

"You have an idea?" Buri asked him, not needing her sense to notice that.

"Perhaps," Forad said slowly as he thought the idea over. "A squad of our men is still inside Útgarðr, the capital. Whoever Laufey picks as his ambassador will not be going alone. They'll have an escort, two guards if it's a short term visit and four if it is overnight."

"Go on," Buri continued carefully.

"What if our raiders switch places with the ambassador's guards?" Forad asked.

Buri stood a little straighter as the idea sank in. It was simple enough that a child like her could understand it, but plausible.

"Then we use the excuse Laufey made to send our raiders to Asgard," Forad continued. "We can steal the Casket, the Icefall Jewel, and anything else we want from the vault. I can only imagine what Laufey will give to have any of his treasures returned."

"That could be only two men though," Buri pointed out the flaw in the plan readily, "four if we're lucky. That's not enough."

"What if we send Dúrnir?" Forad asked.

Buri hissed softly through her fangs. "As strong as he is he will not tip the odds in their favor. Besides, he's our only mage just like Midi is our only healer."

"I know it's a risk," Forad agreed, "but I don't intend to send Dúrnir with orders to kill. Asgard is unique in many regards. One of them is the fact that at the heart of Asgard are rainbow-like crystals called Chroniko. It is by drawing energy from these crystals that Bifrost can be used, and a portal could be made."

Buri's breath caught. "A portal? You mean invade Asgard? But, but that's impossible! It's never been done before! The Barriers protecting it are too powerful!"

"Against external threats," Forad agreed, "but Dúrnir will be on Asgard _within_ the Barriers."

Buri went quiet, a stark change from her sudden outburst.

"I was working with Vasad and others during the Ice War when we fought Asgard four centuries ago," Forad implored her. "We gained this intel on Bifrost to try to figure out a way to sabotage it. As you said, an invasion isn't possible from outside the barriers, but we will have people inside. You'd think the barriers are the perfect loop: it can only be overridden from the inside and no one can get inside to override it."

"Except we will have people inside," Buri agreed.

"A loophole," Forad said excitedly as a plan unfolded in his mind. "Once our people replace the ambassador's guards and go to Asgard, Dúrnir can tap into the power of the Chroniko jewels and open a portal. Midi can supplement him on Jötunnheim so there is a mage on both sides of the portal."

Buri had brightened, but now tightened her lips and sighed. "It's too easy. Asgard will be ready for it."

"Why?" Forad challenged, breathing quickening with his heartbeat in excitement. "Asgardians have participated in countless wars, but Asgard itself hasn't been invaded in over ten thousand years. They have a false sense of security, and they don't take Jötnar seriously. They believe we're just barbarians in a dark age, _no threat to them_. As long as they suppress our ice magic they will be happy, but Dúrnir won't need to use ice magic to open the portal."

"Once the portal is opened in that manner it will disturb the barriers," Buri supplemented as the knowledge suddenly popped into her head as it had a habit of doing. "It won't be able to efficiently suppress our ice magic. Asgard loses their greatest advantage and we land an attack force."

Forad was surprised that Buri knew that, but half a second later he realized he wasn't. "Exactly. They won't have the barriers to weaken us and they can't use Bifrost as a laser weapon to level cities and destroy realms because Asgard will be where the battle is. They won't hurt their own realm. Their greatest defensive and offensive weapons will be _useless_."

"Alert Durnir and the rest of his squad at Útgarðr then," Buri ordered in agreement, "carry out your plan."

Forad tipped his head in the closet thing to a bow Raiders had and then briskly left. The door disappeared and then appeared behind him, leaving Buri to look at the door. She didn't know about landing an invasion force or starting a war although both were possible if this plan worked, but she did know that they should be able to steal Jötunnheim's treasures from the Odin's Trophy Room and return them home. The balance of power among the realms was about to be forever changed.

* * *

 **And here is where the story summery comes into play. The civil war between Laufey and Vasad's men is about to come to Asgard, and if Asgard is caught too flat-footed then they will be too late. If your home hasn't been attacked for ten thousand years and you were the dominant faction, wouldn't you be a little overconfident?**

 _ ***Note: My stories lead up to Thor (2011) and the Avengers (2012). Those two movies happen exactly in my universe, and these stories help you understand the events that led to all that happening.**_

 _ **Do not assume that I won't let Asgard be invaded. As long as the Asgardians aren't completely wiped out, events will continue according to the movie.**_ _ **I don't play favorites among the species in the Nine Realms, so Asgardians will don't get any special treatment.**_


	9. Discord

Because all Jötnar were raised to use their ice magic to defend themselves as well as everyday life, coupled with the fact that despite Jötunnheim's poverty there was little crime, they did not have a large-scale standing army like the Asgardians or Ljósálfr. There was no need for it, and with things so difficult, good men couldn't be spared to lounge around all day waiting for something to attack. Their greatest threat was usually icefuries, a blizzard where instead of flakes of snow swirling around there were shards of ice that could skin a Jötunn alive. Icefuries weren't something a soldier could fight, so there was usually no need for soldiers. With the Raiders returning however, that might no longer be true.

Their normal force was the Militia, and it was more of a police force, royal family guardsmen, and escorts for caravans when there used to be caravans. They were small in number, but high in skill. When they did need to raise an army, as they had four centuries ago during the "Ice War" as Asgard had dubbed it, the Militia became the officers and commanders of the army.

Four Militia soldiers were going to accompany Hӕra to Asgard, and they were chatting about the upcoming trip to Asgard with their fellow Militia members. Some were envious that they got to go to Asgard and see their blood enemies in person, and possibly get a chance to kill some of them, while others were glad it wasn't them. They ended up getting into a large argument about the entire thing, including the fact that four guards meant they were staying overnight in the _enemy's home_ and what could happen there.

Mimir found the argument interesting as he and Dagr, the Commander of the Militia troops, walked past the dining hall where the feud was centered. They parted ways there. Dagr needed to speak to the four who would be leaving in two days' time to go to Asgard, and Mimir heading back to his quarters to speak to his wife. He had a sneaking suspicion who had been sent to be Laufey's ambassador on Asgard.

Mimir arrived at his quarters before long, finding his wife sitting at the table, relaxing. A fur had been thrown over the ice chair she had crafted, and she opened her eyes when Mimir tapped his fingers on the table in front of her. She saw him and rubbed her eyes, humming softly in greeting.

"Yes?" Hӕra asked him and stretched luxuriously like a cat before sitting straight.

"I know you're aware of the expedition to Asgard," Mimir told her levelly, "so I'll just ask my question. Are you the ambassador Laufey's going to send to Asgard in two days?"

Hӕra thought about the answers she could say, and then simply said, "yes."

If Mimir was a cat then his fur would have bristled, and he took a step back as if she had tried to strike him. Fear snaked through Mimir's system. His bondmate was going to Asgard? She'd be on their soil and completely at their mercy. Mercy, as Mimir had learned during the Ice War four centuries ago, was not a quality Asgardian's had in abundance.

"No," he said, voice cracking.

"Yes," Hӕra assured him. "I'm leaving this Moon's Day, two days from now."

"You can't," Mimir hissed and took a step closer to them. "You'll be in their grasp! I won't let you go into their lair."

"You don't have a choice," Hӕra shrugged. "I'm the best one to be sent, so I am going. I know I'll be in danger, but with the Raiders on the hunt I'll be in danger whether I stay or go. If I go at least, I stand a chance of returning with the Icefall Jewel, and that can be used to eliminate the danger here at home. Use your head, dear heart. You'll realize I'm right."

Hӕra gave her bondmate a kind smile that was a paradox to the teasing edge to her voice. Her saffron eyes were warm and gentle. Mimir felt like hissing at her again because he knew she was right. In order to keep Jötunnheim safe she had to go to Asgard, and she was the best for the job. She traced one of the black ridges on Mimir's wrist, his Heritage Lines, to try to soothe him.

Mimir moved his hand back from the table, still infuriated with his wife's logic, and he started to argue. "Hӕra…"

He was interrupted when a small voice asked in a tired tone, "mother?"

The bickering adults stopped their argument, and turned to see one of the doorways was open and Viddi was standing there. His long black hair half-hid his sleepy eyes, claws still on his arms as they always were. It was still early on a Saturday morning, and Viddi had evidently still been sleeping. Rarely did he sleep in, so Hӕra wondered if her son was still tired from fighting Raiders.

He looked between his parents, eyes brightening as he woke up. "Are you going to Asgard now?"

"Moon's Day," Hӕra corrected him with a smile and motioned for her son to come over, "today is only Saturday."

He made a hum-like noise and stepped up beside his mother. Hӕra ran his fingers through his soft black hair, and Viddi leaned into her touch as if he were a cat. Mimir did not move to greet his son, or even acknowledge that Viddi had appeared. Viddi bounced on the balls of his feet, barefoot.

"Can I come to Asgard with you?" Viddi asked her with a too-bright smile.

"No," Hӕra sighed as she ran her fingers across one of the Heritage Lines on his cheek, hating to disappoint him. "I'm afraid you can't come this time."

Viddi paused in surprise, and then stepped back out of Hӕra's reach. He looked up at her, having to tilt his head back quite far due to his small size. His mother was a full grown Jötunn almost thirteen feet tall and he was a half-grown Rhutistic not quite five feet tall.

"I want to come," Viddi said as if he were giving an order, snapping his voice irritably.

Mimir tensed, holding his breath. Arguing or disagreeing with Viddi was very dangerous.

"I know you do," Hӕra sighed, "but this is a diplomatic mission, not an invasion. There will be no killing. You'd only get bored, and when you get bored you find ways to entertain yourself. The Asgardians might not be pleased with your ' _entertainment_ ' and that will only make my task of appealing to their common sense, should such a creature exist, that much harder."

Mimir couldn't help but snicker at Hӕra's tart tone, but Viddi blissfully didn't look his way. His son pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. Viddi's frustration made Mimir swallow, and his snicker choked off. Would Hӕra really risk upsetting him?

Hӕra caught Mimir's caution, and continued speaking to Viddi in the same gentle, heart-warming tone she reserved for her son. "Besides, you're one of Laufey's most lethal warriors. You're a combat Rhutistic, a rare gift to our people. If the Raiders attack the palace again before I return, as they might, you'll be needed _here_ to fight them off."

When she said the word ' _here'_ she tapped two of her fingers on Viddi's head lightly. Viddi tssked, annoyed just as Mimir was that Hӕra's logic was so sound.

"I've never killed an Asgardian before though!" Viddi argued without uncrossing his arms, sulking in ill-tempered silence. "They were strong enough to beat us during the Ice War, so they would be fun to kill! I've never met someone who was fun before, and I might _there_."

"True, true," Hӕra agreed readily, a thoughtful look that brightened as she figured out a compromise. "How about this Viddi, I'll speak to Laufey before I leave. If you stay here and stand guard with the Militia then I'll arrange it so that if there is trouble on Asgard, you can be part of the squadron to reinforce us. That way, you can stay here and protect the palace from Raiders, and if Odin does break his word, you can see how much fun fighting Asgardians can be."

Viddi thought his mother's compromise over and the nodded. This way, he was equally likely to get to have some fun, be it with Asgardians or Raiders. He figured agreeing to this was the best chance he had. Hopefully, Odin would break his word like everyone seemed to think he would and Viddi would be sent to Asgard to help fight those berserkers and save his mother. The idea appealed to the young Rhutistic, and he relaxed his stance.

"All right mother," Viddi told her seriously. "I'll stay if you tell Laufey to send me to help fight the Æsir."

"Deal," Hӕra agreed, lightly tapping the fingers of her right hand over her heart to seal the promise. "Now, why don't you get something to eat? It's well past breakfast, and I bet you're hungry."

Viddi was hungry, and he said cheerfully. "Yes mother, father."

Mimir nearly cringed when his son addressed him as he left. He gave a brisk nod of dismissal as if Viddi was one of Dagr's Militia cadets. Viddi didn't seem to notice, and trotted out into the hallway, still rubbing sleep from his eyes.

Hӕra waited until her son was gone before turning on Mimir. "He's your _son_. Can't you be gentler with him instead of treating him like a cadet you're stuck with?"

The ice cold edge of her voice struck at Mimir, and he recoiled from it. How could she treat that thing like an actual son as if he were a normal child? Most Rhutistics were mentally unstable in one way or another, but Viddi was a psychopath, and indulging his interest in killing was only going to turn him into a greater monster the older he became.

"My blood does run in his veins," Mimir grudgingly admitted, "but that does not mean I approve of having someone like him as kin."

"Someone like him?" Hӕra repeated in a sharper voice.

"What do you expect me to say?" Mimir demanded with a growl low in his throat. "He truly doesn't understand _why_ killing is bad."

"It's not his fault," Hӕra retorted. "He doesn't choose to be a killer. It's just his nature, and he can't change it. Viddi is getting better."

"Better?" Mimir laughed lowly. " _How_ is he getting better?"

"He doesn't understand the harm in killing," Hӕra agreed softly, "but it's not as if he goes around randomly killing people anymore. During the attack he killed three of the four squadrons by himself without harming a single civilian."

Viddi was her son, and she had a mother's love for him. It didn't matter what Viddi was like, he was still her son. That was what Hӕra believed, and she wished Mimir agreed with her.

"He's a monster," Mimir whispered, terrified by Viddi. "If something happens to you on Asgard…"

"Then Viddi will be your only kin?" Hӕra interrupted. "Do you consider your son such evil that you fear that?"

Mimir knew his answer would only inflame Hӕra more, so he said nothing. His silence was as good as saying yes though, and Hӕra gave her husband a disgusted look. She stood sharply, leaving the chair and facing off against Mimir.

"I am going to speak to Laufey about Viddi's request," Hӕra hissed at him and stalked outside before he could respond.

If the door had been on hinges she would have slammed it behind her, but could not unfortunately. She walked to the right without looking around, a fortunate thing, for if she had looked to the left she would have seen Viddi standing near the doorway. He tilted his head curiously as his mother left, having heard every word of the argument. Viddi turned over the words, but he wasn't sure what he was supposed to think about them, or if they mattered at all.

Hӕra nodded briskly at four Militia members that she walked by. The Militia seemed surprised by her reaction, but Hӕra was so frustrated that she didn't realize she didn't recognize them. Once Hӕra walked by, one of the Militia heaved a huge sigh of relief.

"She fell for it?" One of them whispered.

Another one nodded. "Camands Forad's plan is working."

"It will as long as you drop the Raider slang," a third one ordered. "These southerners say Commander instead of Camands."

"Shut up all of you," a fourth one snapped at the other three. "If you don't stop saying we're Raiders that stole Militia uniforms we'll all get caught. Now, we have two days to familiarize ourselves with Militia protocol. After that, we still have to dispose of Hӕra's guards so we're the ones that get sent to Asgard. Forad's plan will be a waste if we can't get to Asgard."

"Yes Dúrnir," the other three whispered.

Dúrnir sighed. "We're just lucky that Laufey brought in new Militia in response to our raid or we would have been caught anyway."

"No one noticed the new faces here like no one noticed us at the Midwinter's Eve," one grinned.

"And it will end just as badly for Laufey this time as it did then," Dúrnir nodded agreement, "and we'll be able to take a piece out of Asgard while we're at it."

He waved, and the group of camouflaged Raiders walked deeper into the heart of the palace, unnoticed.

* * *

 **What can I say, family feuds area always the bloodiest. Yes, this information about Viddi is important because Loki is a rhutistic Jotunn like Viddi.**

 **I don't like the idea that the only characters that exist in the Nine Realms are Thor, his friends, and their parents. There are nine realms and many different types of people. I'm hoping to create depth and help you understand the other species. The more points of view you get on something the more interesting a story becomes in my opinion (although I don't overuse OC's).**


	10. Moon's Day

Hӕra reached into the satchel she wore and took out a small, prism-like crystal that had been smoothed and polished. She held the polished side of the crystal so it caught the watery light that managed to filter through the dark clouds, and read the way it reflected, painting a certain rainbow pattern on the surface of it. Since she was sure she was holding right, she read the polished surface to get the time.

Her time prism wasn't cracked, so Hӕra knew that the time she read, a little past 1pm, was within ten minutes of being accurate. Reading time prisms was difficult to do, but it was the only way to tell time other than using a charm since the sunlight wasn't strong enough to cast shadows. Hӕra shook her head as she lowered the time prism and lost the rainbow.

Her escort was late. It was very sloppy for the Militia. Laufey wasn't even here to see her off, but she wasn't too surprised by that. He had a valid excuse: being king was very busy work, and the Raiders had not made his job easy. The Militia did not, and she shoved the crystal back into her rabbit skin satchel.

Her satchel squirmed in irritation, but Hӕra was too busy glancing around looking for the guards to notice. She was outside the boundary of Útgarðr, waiting for her escort to arrive and then for Bifrost. Being "beamed" over to Asgard through Bifrost worried Hӕra more than anything else.

Slítas shifted where he lay in Hӕra's satchel so the time prism wasn't sitting on top of him and stuck out his tongue. This was a nuisance, but Slítas forced himself to tolerate it. He was worried about Laufey, but more worried about his Jötunn friend. For some reason, Slítas felt that Loki needed his help far more than his father did. It was just fortunate it had been so easy for him to slip inside Hӕra's satchel, for he could think of no other way to return to Asgard.

Something moved in Hӕra's peripheral sight as Slítas finally settled, and Hӕra glanced towards the source of the movement. Mimir was approaching her, and Hӕra looked away from him. She was still cross with her husband over how callous he had been towards Viddi, and every time he had tried to approach her so far she had managed to make herself scarce. Unfortunately, this time he had no choice but to let him approach.

"Hӕra," Mimir greeted her quietly in a submissive voice, knowing he was in serious trouble.

"Do you happen to know what happened to my escort?" Hӕra asked as she glanced behind him instead of looking at him. "It's not like Militia soldiers to be late."

"I haven't seen them," Mimir dismissed, "and please stop trying to change the subject."

"What subject would that be?" Hӕra asked innocently. "More accusations against our son?"

It seemed Mimir was still in trouble, and he spoke shyly, scuffing one of his bare feet against the snow. "No. I just wanted to apologize about what I said a few days ago. Viddi's birth scarred your womb so you can't have any more children, and it frustrates me that he is how he is. I shouldn't be taking it out on him or you. It's not his fault."

Hӕra gave him a sad smile. "You treat him as if he is something that is broken and needs to be fixed. Despite what you think, there is nothing wrong with Viddi."

Until Mimir could understand that, and Hӕra secretly wondered if he ever would, things would never be right. Hӕra was almost relieved when she saw the Militia approaching.

"Ah," Hӕra said before Mimir could respond. "There they are, finally."

Mimir's response died before it was spoken, and he stepped aside as the four Militia approached. They looked down, aware they were late as their steps slowed to a walk.

"Sorry sir," Dúrnir apologized, figuring he would be the best one to do so.

"You're here now," Hӕra sighed. "I only hope Asgard doesn't mind. Unless you're coming with us I suggest you step back Mimir."

Reluctantly, Mimir took a step back. This was no place to say something, and he didn't know what to say anyway.

"We're ready Heimdall!" Hӕra announced with a glance skyward.

Mimir looked up at the cloudy sky oddly. It had to feel so idiotic to say that out loud to someone who was on the other side of the star cluster. A sound like thunder rumbled, and Mimir cautiously took another step back.

Dúrnir suppressed a victorious smile, but he was thrilled. Heimdall was opening Bifrost so he couldn't know that the "Militia" soldiers were really Raiders. Camands Forad's plan really was working perfectly, and it wouldn't be but a moment before they would be on Asgard and could put the rest of the plan into action. They might not be strong enough to gain control of Asgard, but the Raiders were very close now to gaining control of Jötunnheim.

* * *

Loki stood on Asgard's mainland in irritating formal clothes. His brother was with him in clothes of crimson and storm grey, also formal, and his parents stood with them. Queen Frigga looked resplendent in a honey-gold gown that rippled like a waterfall, the color reflecting the golden dust in her irises that all mages had. Odin had his golden-colored armor on, newly polished, with Gungnir in one hand.

Star Guard lined the walkways around them in an impressive display of strength, and there were Star Guard on some of the turrets – although they were there so they had a better view more than anything. Many of the current Star Guards were either veterans from the Ice War, or too young to have been deployed and so had never _really_ seen Jötnar. They were as innocently curious as the children, and the older Star Guard were quick to point out that they were acting somewhat like children.

The Rainbow Bridge that connected Himinbjörg, Heimdall's Observatory, to the mainland pulsed with rainbow energy drawn from the Chroniko crystals that existed within the core of Asgard. Once the energy was transferred to Heimdall's Observatory, he could control and direct it to allow travel. Loki had read about the process in the library, and he found the entire thing intriguing. Bifrost had been described as one of the more perfect unions of magic and science. It had not been activated very much, as few had come or gone from Asgard in a very long time.

Four centuries ago, Loki knew Bifrost would have been used a lot. Asgard had been fighting the Ice War, fighting the Jötnar who had invaded Midgard, and had needed it top transport troops, supplies, and casualties back and forth. Once the war had ended, Bifrost had gone quiet.

The first time Loki or Thor had ever seen Bifrost open was last spring when snowdrops and a few hardy daffodils were just starting to bloom through the snow. Freyr had come to Asgard with the only two members of Vanaheim's royal family to have survived Nira's wrath. It had been mere hours since Mira had killed her mother and older sistrer. Freyja's twin had been bedraggled, drenched, dirty, and his clothes stained the awful red-brown color of dried blood. Vör and Hogun had each been holding one of his hands, and they walked silently with their head lowered, in as poor of shape as Freyr.

Freyr had returned to Vanaheim with a squad of Star Guard shortly afterwards, and Bifrost had activated a few more times as events heated up and then died back down. Nira had last been seen leaving with the Marauders, and things had simmered down. Vör, being the crown heir since she was the daughter, had returned home with Freyr to restabilize the realm, but Hogun had stayed. Officially, it was because it was a bad idea to have both royals in the same place where Nira could kill them without too much trouble.

Bifrost had been like a dazzling arrow of shimmering iridescent light, either coming or going depending on the situation. The hum in the air was malleable, and it made Loki's head spin. Even though he hadn't been practicing with his magic back then, it was impossible for him to miss.

Back then… Loki found that idea amusing since that wasn't much more than six months ago. A lot had changed since then.

Now the bridge would be used again, _and_ to bring Jötnar to Asgard. Beside Loki, Thor exhaled and released a breath he didn't know he had been holding. These Jötnar were late, and Thor wanted to see one. Loki smiled at Thor, and his brother gave a small smile back.

There was no sign of Hogun today, but he rarely had anything to do with Asgardians. Volstagg, a member of a lesser noble family which lived outside Gladsheimr, would be at his family's manor. Fandral was probably on the roof of a house in the town, being only a commoner without a trace of nobility in him. Sif crossed Loki's mind, but he was more curious where Sigyn or Lorelei and Amora were.

He felt his mother's fingers dance across his shoulder, and Loki jolted himself back to the present. His mother had noticed Bifrost was activating, but Loki hadn't. With his ice magic contaminating his control, he didn't have any magic anymore, and was a useless mundane. Even before he had begun officially training with it, he had enjoyed the advantage of his magic's sense. Magic gave them a sixth sense that enabled them to be aware of things their five senses could not detect. Loki no longer had that sixth sense.

He was probably the only Æsir that looked forward to the Jötnar's impending arrival. It was the only chance he stood to learn to regain control of his magic. Loki wasn't sure he could bear to live without his magic, to wander about with his senses so dulled and narrow, helpless.

The stunning light as the visitors came to Asgard from Jötunnheim made Loki's eyesight sting. He could feel the power as a rumble in his chest one that made his ribs thrum, but he could not hear its song. It was almost enough to make his heart fall with fear and sorrow, but Loki did not let himself dwell on it. The Jötnar had arrived.

They came at last, three of them approaching. Loki was surprised that he had to tilt his head up so high, amazed that the shortest of the three almost thirteen feet tall, and the other two were over fourteen. The shortest one was female, and she walked in front with the two others walking a step behind and beside her. Black ridge-like lines decorated all of their visible skin, and Loki realized that each of the three had different patterns. Were those things the Heritage Lines he had read about last week?

There was no way for him to mistaken the other two as anything but guards, although Loki wasn't sure what the Jötunn guards were called. It was obvious their title wasn't Star Guard. They had the same taunt look the older Star Guard did despite not carrying weapons, but they did have armor of sort. To Loki, they appeared to be polished bone plates, bleached a paler shade of white then snow that somehow reminded him of twilight grey. They were carved into interlinking geometric shapes, work that seemed too delicate to have been made by such large hands as the Jötnar possessed.

Their armor of bone plates protected their upper back, shoulders, around their neck, and upper chest. They had dark grey leather vambraces on their arm mounted with armor plates in addition to the rest of their armor, and appeared to be more decorative then anything. Each pattern of geometric shapes that made up the armor was slightly different and there was a hexagonal plate of bone in place of sleeves. The left plate had an etched design of horizontal stripes, and he guessed that it denoted some sort of rank.

Loki felt Odin tense slightly as the female Jötunn approached him, something that struck Loki as curious enough to stop looking at the guards and look at her. She didn't have any hair, not even eyebrows or eyelashes that he could discern, and she lacked the bone plate that wrapped around the back of her skull that the men had. He wondered if that was really part of their skeletal structure or if it was some sort of helmet.

Her frame was large like the men's, but slighter and more graceful then theirs. She was barefoot like they were, and wore the same knee-length sort of kilt they wore. Unlike the men, she wore a brown leather shirt to cover her breasts that had the same design as her kilt. Shirt was generous though because it wasn't much more than a leather bra. A metal armband etched with snowflakes was on her upper right forearm.

Something about the seriousness of her look made Loki want to stand at attention. She reminded him of Frigga during the few times when she was strict with her sons, and Loki felt the need, as if she were Frigga, not to cross her or disappoint her. It was singularly strange, but he could see that Thor was reacting the same way.

"Hæra," Odin greeted the female Jötunn by name.

"Allfather," Hæra returned the greeting in a guarded tone. "I see you Asgardians are still breaking your word. Some things never change, hmm?"

Her words were as brittle as broken glass, and cut just as deeply. Thor tensed, taking the insult personally. Loki felt the insult to, and wondered what she meant.

"Your guards," Odin said, knowing instantly what she was talking about.

"Yes," Hæra agreed, saffron eyes sharp. "You said I could bring four Militia as my escort, yet two of them have been left on Jötunnheim."

Loki assumed that Militia was the name of the soldier's organization. Wasn't the definition of a militia a military force raised from civilian numbers to supplement a regular army during an emergency? It sounded strange that the Jötnar regular army was a militia. Did they even have a regular army? He had just assumed from the stories he heard about them that they did.

Hæra gave Odin a sharp smile, her blue lips twisted into a smirk. "What? Don't trust us not to cause trouble?"

"Something like that," Odin replied calmly despite Hæra's honey-smooth venom. "I shouldn't be surprised that Laufey has sent you."

"You know her?" Thor asked their father urgently, glancing at Hæra briefly with a look heated by hate.

"Hæra was one of the ones that helped Laufey and I settle the terms of the Jötnar's surrender at the end of the Ice War," Odin explained.

Hæra knew that there was no way to talk Odin into letting her missing Militia escort come to Asgard, so she didn't see the need to wear at a subject she couldn't win.

"Are these two your sons?" Hӕra asked instead, looking over the two boys that stood near Odin and Frigga.

Her eyes rested on Loki a moment longer then Thor. For a moment, she had thought that Loki was Viddi. The similarities between the two boys were surprising, but she recovered without showing any sign of her surprise.

"Yes," Odin nodded and motioned the boys to step forward. "This is Thor, my eldest, and his brother Loki."

Both Thor and Loki tipped their heads in bow when their name was spoken. Hæra raised an eyebrow, a strange move since she didn't have eyebrows, at Loki's name.

"Loki," Hæra repeated, speaking it with a Jötunn accent instead of an Asgardian one. It sounded better when Hæra said it then when Odin had. "That's an ironic choice of name for a son of Odin."

Loki blinked in surprise, almost saying huh? before he was able to stop himself. Why was his name ironic to a Jötunn? Several times before, Loki had asked his parents why his name sounded so different from other Asgardian names but he had never gotten a straight answer why. Did this Jötunn know something about his name?

Odin didn't respond to Hæra's comment, already regretting bringing the Jötnar here. The last thing he needed was for Loki to be exposed to his species and realize he wasn't Asgardian. He needed to get Loki away from Hæra, now.

* * *

"What's going on?" One of a group of children watching from near the Rainbow Bridge asked.

"Shh!" Another ordered without looking away from the group.

"Angborn!" One of his friends hissed. "Tell me what's going on or move so one of us can see!"

"Yeah," another added.

Angborn finally looked away from the Jötnar to his two friends, Hermód Dýrison and Tannr Vafrison, reluctantly. He scooched back a step so one of his friends could see and Hermód was the one to elbow his way closer. The three friends were hiding behind a snow-covered bush, and although it was large enough to hide all of them from sight, only one person could get deeply enough in the branches to look through the leaves at a time.

While Hermód looked and Tannr tried to peer through the leaves behind him, Angborn sat back and looked around to make sure there weren't any Star Guard nearby to catch them. Since they weren't Star Guard, the children weren't supposed to be so close. A quick look didn't reveal any trouble, and there was still no sign of Jaro and his goons blissfully. Hodr and his older brother Baldur were a little bit away, watching. They hadn't seen, or weren't bothered, to look at Angborn and his friends. As heirs to the throne, they weren't get in nearly as much trouble if they were caught if Angborn and his friends would.

"Hey!" Hermód whispered excitedly, trying not to move and disturb the snow on the leaves. "They're moving."

"Where?" Tannr asked and leaned forward to try to see.

He leaned forward too much, and since there was really only room for one person to look, Tannr put his hands on Hermód's back. As he leaned forward, he flattened Hermód to the snow covered ground to see. Hermód made a noise as he lay flat in the snow now, but Tannr shushed him.

Angborn smiled, and took a chance to peer around the bush to see. He could be seen here, but he wasn't sure he wanted to wade into the leaves and interrupt Hermód and Tannr. Already he knew that things would not be resolved silently.

From what Angborn could see, Thor and Loki had stepped back with their mother. Allfather and the Jötnar were continuing their walk with a few other Asgardians. They were entering Gladsheimr. The thought of Jötnar inside the heart of Asgard sent a trill of fear and excitement through Angborn's systems.

Or it did until Hermód elbowed Tannr in the solar plexus and knocked him onto his back so he could sit up. Tannr stayed lying in the snow for a minute as he tried to breathe again, and Hermód resumed looking through the leaves. When Tannr was finally able to breath, he shoved Hermód forward into the bush. Hermód hit the large stems supporting the branches, and snow fell on top of him so he blended into the ground as a white lump.

Tannr wasn't the kind to raise a fuss or throw a temper tantrum, but he seemed to take pleasure in his revenge against Hermód, flashing a smile as gentle and kind as his voice. Hermód scowled and huffed, a sound that came from inside his throat. Angborn sighed, but didn't try to stop them.

Someone cleared their throat behind them as the Jötnar vanished within Gladsheimr, and the three boys all tensed. Silence fell between them, and they turned around very slowly towards the source of the sound. Standing behind them were a pair of Star Guard.

While the three friends smiled shyly, aware of the trouble they were in, Dúrnir cursed to himself. Asgard might not know about the plan, but they had just made Dúrnir's standing very tenuous. Not only had his forces been cut in half, two of the Raiders had been left behind on Jötunnheim. The other Jötnar would ask them what had happened and eventually someone would realize that despite being dressed in Militia gear _weren't_ Militia members. They would be revealed as Raiders, and Dúrnir knew they wouldn't hold up to interrogation.

Dúrnir had no idea how Laufey would react. Even if he didn't warn Asgard about the Raiders, which he might, someone could say the Raider's plan out loud and Heimdall might hear them. The whole plan could be exposed at a moment's notice.

Laufey _might_ warn Asgard anyway. Jötunnheim's royal family were descendants of Ymir, mortals with his DNA in their genome. The immortal's blood in their veins allowed them to use the Casket of Ancient Winters and the Icefall Jewe, Ymir's instruments. Vasad was a distant cousin of Laufey's and also a descendant of Ymir. This meant it was possible he, or one of his two children, could awaken the Casket. If Laufey felt threatened enough by that possibility, he could contact Asgard and alert them to the Raider's plot – spiting the Raiders and his kin who commanded them.

Dúrnir was now on a very short time limit, and what happened next depended on how badly Laufey wanted to stop them and sheer dumb luck. It was a factor he had no control over, and he did not like the feeling that the situation was out of his hands. He needed to contact Midi back with the Raiders and begin the operation – now.

* * *

 **Here is a little more background on characters both OC and cannon. Now both the Raiders and Loki are ready to start, and Odin is already regretting allowing the Jötnar to come.**

 **I'm not sure if I made this clear but Moon's Day is Monday.**


	11. Winter

Loki, having skirted Amora and Lorelei and their questions about the Jötunn visitors, now walked through the snow. He and Thor had been reminded by Frigga to stay away from the Jötnar, and then she had turned the brothers loose. Thor had gone to chatter about the Jötnar to anyone who would listen, allowing Loki to slip away after a delay he still considered intolerable.

Now he headed for South Woods while everyone else was distracted by the Jötnar that had arrived forty minutes ago. South Woods was uninhabited, and unlike the Timberland, not readily entered by hunters or loggers. It was old and quiet with tall ancient trees and an air that warned off intruders. Many mages came to practice their magic in solitude, so the Seidr concentration was much higher here then it was in other parts of Asgard. It was perfect for Loki to practice his ice magic without fear of hurting anyone.

"Loki," someone said softly behind him.

Loki jumped in surprise, and drew one of his throwing blades out of instinct, turning and throwing it at the source of the voice, cutting his finger as he did so. His purser gave a noise of surprise most similar to a squeak, and Loki's eyes widened when he realized who he'd attacked. The dagger he had thrown was levitating in front of Sigyn's throat, bobbing up and down as if held on an invisible wire.

"Sigyn!" Loki gasped. "I-I didn't know…"

"That it was me?" Sigyn finished for him.

Loki nodded guiltily. Sigyn moved her fingers and the blade she had magically caught came and rested in the palm of one of her hands. It was fortunate for him that Sigyn had such quick reflexes or he could have really hurt her.

"I guessed that," Sigyn nodded neutrally and walked over to Loki.

She held out his dagger and he took it back shyly, feeling the warmth creeping to his cheeks in embarrassment. As Sigyn's fingers trailed against his hand, she healed the cut Loki had inflicted on himself when he had thrown the dagger. His hands were still bitingly cold, but she blushed at the contact with the prince just as she usually did.

"Why are you going into the forest?" Sigyn asked him softly, looking away and drawing her hands back to her chest. "I thought you'd be looking forward to the Jötnar arrival."

Loki glanced up at that and turned to look at her sharply, and asked in a harsh voice. "What do you mean?"

"You can't use your magic because of your ice," Sigyn said bluntly.

Loki almost flinched form the truth. He thought about denying it, but realized that would be stupid. Sigyn was his friend and he trusted her, and she was a healer besides. As a healer she would be able to tell about his magic, and it was as foolish to lie to a healer as it was to disobey one.

"How do you know?" Loki asked her in a low voice.

"I noticed it earlier when I healed your hand," Sigyn told him calmly. "When I healed it I noticed you repressing your magic. The reason your hands are so cold is because your ice magic."

Loki hurriedly stuffed his hands in his pockets in response, not realizing he had given himself away.

"As long as the Jötnar are here the barriers suppress ice magic, including yours," Sigyn continued. "Since your ice magic is so wild, I thought you would be looking forward to them."

Loki heaved a huge sigh and hung his head, looking back at the forest away from her. "You healers are too smart for your own good."

Sigyn smiled in a manner that was gentle instead of smug. Why was Loki surprised that she wasn't looking at him with scorn? Only the worst mages had their own magic turn against them, but Sigyn wouldn't judge him. Of course she wouldn't judge him.

"Why are you going into the forest?" Sigyn repeated slowly. "South Woods is only visited by mages who go to practice in solitude. Usually the only reason they go into the forest is because the spell they're working on is so dangerous they don't dare practice it inside the city."

"I don't want to cause an ice age," Loki admitted. "If I do, I don't want it to be inside the city. Please go back to the city Sigyn. If I can't get control over my ice magic you could be hurt."

Sigyn thought about it, and then nodded. "I see. Unfortunately Loki, I agree with your idea but not your methods. This could be dangerous, and since you're working on something so dangerous there should be a healer present in case it goes wrong. Let's go."

"S-Sigyn," Loki stuttered as she continued walking.

"Come on," Sigyn reminded Loki briskly. "The Jötnar aren't going to stay here for more than a few hours. You have a small window to learn how to control your ice magic."

Sigyn knew she had left Loki slack-jawed and she couldn't help but flush at the idea of it all. Here she was ordering Loki around.

Loki stood rooted to the spot for a second and then jogged to catch up with her. "Sigyn…"

"I won't let you practice such dangerous magic on your own," Sigyn repeated. "It goes against the vow I made as a healer to protect life as well as my common sense. Don't tell me you're going to argue with me?"

She put her fists on her hips and faced him, giving him a stern look. Loki hesitated, aware this was dangerous territory. His father had told him before to "never argue with a healer." Healers had their own authority, and Eir's authority trumped Odin's because he could order Odin around. If a patient didn't obey them, the healer could take action to make sure they did. Actions with some of the healers could include anything sleep spells and potions all the way to paralysis hexes that kept them from leaving the bed. Once, his mother had told him, when Odin was still a young king newly crowned, Eir had tied him to his bed so he would get some rest.

Sigyn had Eir's temperament when it came to making sure that the patients followed her orders. Her strictness was because she was concerned about their safety, but she was still quite scary at times. Thor had found that out the hard way when he had tried to ignore Sigyn's order of bedrest himself no more than four months ago.

Wisely deciding not to fight her, Loki hung his head and continued walking. Sigyn nodded approval at his choice, and the two headed deeper into the forest. It had started to snow again since the Jötnar arrival, but it was a light snow. Loki had read that the Jötnar ice magic was so strong that it actively affected the environment around them when they used it. It was one of the reasons why Jötunnheim was so unnaturally cold and why he was so worried about using his ice magic. Had their arrival made it snow?

Loki trudged after Sigyn, his heart falling to his boots. Sigyn meant well and had a good heart, but this was dangerous for her. The entire reason he was going out into the forest to practice this was that he didn't want to accidently freeze something – or someone – while he was practicing.

Sigyn watched Loki out of the corner of her eye. Although he was doing a good job of hiding it, she could still see that he was miserable. Mages had a certain light or sparkle of joy in their eyes from their magic, but Loki's eyes were dull. He looked wretched without access to his magic, forced to seal it – his own lifeforce – so it didn't harm anyone. Not only did he scuff his boots as he walked, something he had never done before, he had his shoulders hunched over as he tried to maintain his body heat and stop shivering. Never before had Sigyn seen an ice mage like Loki cold.

For her to see the Loki she had grown up with reduced to this state made Sigyn's heart hurt. She would help Loki get his magic back. It was the very least she could do for him. Sigyn felt a bit of a blush in her cheeks, and she tugged her fur-lined hood down a little more to hide it. Hopefully, if Loki saw the blush he would just assume it was the cold putting some color in her cheeks.

She remembered something that had happened a decade ago idly. Loki had been playing around with his ice magic but had given himself frostburn, turning his left forearm blue. Strangely enough, he hadn't been in any pain, something Sigyn had never understood. Loki wouldn't have even mentioned it if the coloration had faded on his own, but his arm had stayed blue until Odin had warmed it with Gungnir's energy.

Sometimes, things happened around Loki or to him that couldn't be explained, but she had to help him for more than just emotional reasons. Since Loki was actively training with his magic, it was much stronger than it had been a decade ago. Fighting an enemy mage was dangerous enough, but now Loki was fighting his own lifeforce, pitting it against itself in a very damaging way. If this went on long enough he stood a real chance of damaging or even shattering his soul. If he shattered his soul he wouldn't even _have_ an afterlife in Niflheim. Or he could lose control of his magic as Irisa had, causing severe damage to the city and the people in it.

Loki licked his lips, wary that Sigyn had been able to figure out he lacked his magic. His magic was suppressed, but it was still present so he thought that no one would notice how defenseless he had become. When he remembered how Frigga had asked Loki if he was alright he almost groaned. She had to know, but how many others knew? The threat of his magic was the only thing keeping Jaro and his goons from bullying him. If Jaro realized he lacked magic before Loki could learn to harness his ice…

Loki dismissed the thought and focused on reality. The trees had thickened, and Sigyn fell back a few steps as they entered a small clearing where most mages would practice. He stood on the edge and glanced over his shoulder at Sigyn. She nodded, and he turned forward, relaxing the steely grip he had on his magic.

The light snow around them vanished, brushed aside by a very cold wind that had not been there previously. Although Sigyn could already see the cloud from her breath as she exhaled, the freezing air suddenly began to hurt her lungs. She tugged the scarf around her neck up to cover her nose and lower half of her face. Ice spread along the ground, radiating from Loki like creeper vines.

Loki wasn't aware of Sigyn stepping back so the ice didn't freeze her boots in place. He was aware of the ice. It wanted to play and dance, like snowflakes caught on a breeze. If he let it do what it wanted though then the ice would continue to spread and Asgard could turn into another Jötunnheim.

Winter was Loki's favorite season. There was snow to start snowball fights, or make snowmen and snow angels. The sunlight, when at the right angle, would shine through icicles and paint dancing rainbows across every surface. Last year in early February, a spectacular sight had lit up Asgard's skies. He had spent the night sitting on Gladsheimr's roof looking up into the crystal clear sky and watching as shimmering bands of green, red, and purple had cut across the sky, a sight he had never seen before. A little research had called the occurrence an aurora borealis, a winter exclusive event that was more common to Midgard and Jötunnheim.

As much as he loved the season, he didn't want Asgard to be in an eternal ice age. Winter's cold didn't use to bother him, but it bothered others. Frostburn or frostbite produced the same results of missing fingers or toes – or a missing heartbeat. Winter was the favorite season of scavengers like ravens because it was during winter that the most animals died of the cold. Jötunnheim had been so hard to invade because the cold had killed so many Asgardian troops.

Now the ice wanted to play and "flex its wings" to explore. It wasn't nihilistic and endlessly hungry like fire, but it was still lethal. Dying from cold was not painful like being burned alive, but some said it was even more dangerous. After being in the cold for so long, the adults said that one would feel very tired and feel the need to sit down. Your muscles simply went numb, and you would sit down – just for a few minutes – and you slowly fell asleep with your senses dulled. You never woke up again. If you were fighting fire at least, the danger was obvious.

Loki did not want something like this to happen to Asgard, yet the ice wanted to play. The more rein he gave it the colder it became and the more it wanted freedom to roam. It had a child's mentality like fire.

 _*Rein it in*_ Sigyn ordered him telepathically, feeling the strain instantly. _*You're freezing everything*_

With a heavy heart, Loki dragged his magic under his control as he was ordered. The ice fought him, lamenting that it wasn't able to play as it wished. Loki fought back, and like a pouting child, the ice finally relented and let Loki put it in "timeout" so to speak. Without a choice, Loki shut down his magic, creating an effect similar to if he was in an anti-magic zone. It was as if his senses shut down from how he felt when he finished, but he had no choice. Opening the portal to Jötunnheim and sending Slítas back home had had greater repercussions then he could have ever imagined.

When he opened his eyes after sealing his magic, he saw to his horror that every surface of the forest was coated in a thick layer of ice. He thought Sigyn and turned to face her rapidly in fear. One of the stories he and Thor always heard was how the Jötnar used their ice magic to freeze a person solid, and then _shattered_ the _person_ with a well-placed blow. Sigyn was not frozen though, only dazed, and she sat down heavily.

Loki knelt by her side quickly, sliding across the surface of the ice as he had taught himself to without error. He touched her arm, and Sigyn smiled at him.

"I'm fine," Sigyn told him. "I'm just dazed from the telepathy."

"I thought I heard you speak to me," Loki said softly. "That's impressive. Usually only Arch Mages can do that, and we're both still acolytes – not even full-fledged mages."

"I won't do it again for a while," Sigyn promised him. "Oh, that made my head spin."

She gave him a wry smile as Loki helped her stand and she stood. The blush crept back into her cheek full force when she realized she was leaning on Loki and he was holding her arm. Instead of continuing to lean on him like some faint-hearted court maiden, Sigyn straightened and nodded. Loki released his grip on her arm, something Sigyn wasn't overly pleased about.

"That didn't work at all," Loki sighed and shook his head after he turned from Sigyn and looked over the ice. "Now you know what I'm up against at least."

"No offense, Loki," Sigyn said slowly, "but if this is your ice magic weakened by the Barriers I hate to see it at full strength."

Loki didn't take offense and waved his hand in dismissal. The ice turned to water and evaporated within the span of a breath. At least he could end his magic successfully. He rubbed his hands together to try to return the feeling and realized he couldn't move his fingers.

He looked at his hands and then at Sigyn and she instantly took off one of her gloves and took Loki's cold hand in hers. His hands were even colder now, cold enough that the skin around his fingers had a slightly blue tint to it. She channeled her magic to his hands, but the nerves would not unbind and the blue color wouldn't fade. After a few seconds she made a face and lowered her hands.

"Loki," Sigyn said softly. "You just gave yourself frostburn."

"I did?" Loki repeated.

Sigyn nodded. "That's why your skin's a little blue. Instead of freezing your flesh as would happen from an external force – like a Jötunn touching you – you gave yourself frostburn from using your magic – internally. You've frozen your nerves. You'll need a healer. You won't be doing any magic until then."

"I _what_?" Loki asked, his voice jumping an octave in panic. "Sig, I don't have time to waste. The Jötnar could leave any time now and I'll miss my chance to get my ice under control on my own. Can you heal it?"

"I haven't been taught how to heal frostburn," Sigyn said softly, hurt by the desperation in Loki's eyes. She was letting him down. "A more advanced healer should be able to, but we'd have to go back to the city."

Loki stared at her, and then hung his head in defeat and let his hands drop to his side, head bowed and shoulders slumped. Time was the one thing Loki didn't have right now. He had tried to let his ice magic go more, and this time he had hurt himself as well as his environment. His one chance might be gone now.

Loki _hated_ his ice magic, and wished he didn't have it.


	12. Sabotage

Loki and Sigyn trudged through the snow, Loki's hands stuffed in his jacket. Sigyn looked at him sideways as they returned to the city. She felt very sad that she was letting Loki down like this. There were Jötnar coming, so Sigyn should have learned how to heal frostburn. Although yes, she had asked Fey about it, Fey had turned her down and said that she was too young to learn such advanced magic.

She had dropped the issue instead of pressing it, despite being a more advanced healer then others her age. Maybe Sigyn could have managed it, but she hadn't even thought to try. Now Loki was paying the price for her idiocy. Loki wasn't even looking her way, only staring ahead with vacant eyes.

Loki was amazing. He had really grown up since he had almost drowned and started focusing on his magic, in more ways than one. Until mages were experienced enough to use their own body as conduits to cast spells, they had to use wands. After the incident with Nira he had started and finished needing his wand in three days. Instead of taking a few weeks or months for Loki to outgrow his wand, he had done so in three days – something almost unheard of for a mage. Yet Sigyn hadn't thought far enough ahead to learn how to heal frostburn despite knowing Jötnar were coming.

"I'm not mad at you," Loki said without turning around.

Signy stopped walking, and Loki glanced over his shoulder at her. He gave her a reassuring smile.

"It's my magic, and the fact it won't behave itself is my fault." Loki promised. "I'm certainly not mad at you over it. If you think I am then you're confusing me with Jaro."

"It is my fault that I didn't learn about the frostburn," Sigyn told him. "Maybe I could help then."

"You stayed with me instead of walking away, and you haven't made one remark about my failure." Loki smiled. "That's more than enough and more than I thought I would get."

Sigyn tugged her hood down a little further nervously and brushed a stray lock of her hair behind her ear. Had Loki really thought she would scorn him because he was having trouble with his magic? No, Sigyn realized. He didn't think Sigyn would abandon him, but he thought others would. She felt a little sad when she realized that some probably would.

They left the forest and approached the city. The two friends stepped off the detritus-laden forest floor and onto cobblestone walkways of the city. From where they stood they could look down onto the entire city all the way to Bifrost. It was a spectacular view, and Sigyn stopped walking. Her view of the city from the point was a little different than normal, and her shoulders stiffened by what she saw.

Loki had fallen behind her as they walked, and he was surprised to see her stop so suddenly. For a brief moment, he was worried that Jaro had appeared. Then he realized that wouldn't have stopped Sigyn.

"Sigyn?" Loki asked.

She didn't answer, so Loki cast his gaze over the city. He didn't see anything outstanding until Sigyn turned and pointed towards Bifrost.

"Is that Hæra and the other Jötnar?" Sigyn asked.

"What?" Loki hissed and ran forward, steps crunching on the light layer of snow.

Sigyn was right. Loki's heart fell, and he felt a headache form. The Jötnar were walking down the rainbow bridge towards Heimdall's observatory. They were leaving early, after only an hour here.

"What?" Loki exhaled and shook his head desperately. "No! They can't leave! If they leave the Barriers will go back to sleep! I need them active to try this!"

Sigyn put one of her mittened hands on Loki's shoulder comfortingly. "Loki."

Loki shrugged her hand off and looked down at the snow in frustration. He shouldn't be surprised they were leaving this early. This was what Loki got for dawdling around trying to look casual and make everyone think everything was fine. Next time he needed to do something, he should just do it instead of paying such mind to others.

"The barriers will probably stay active for several hours after they leave," Sigyn told him. "You still have time to practice."

Loki didn't look as if he believed her, but had no choice in the matter. The Jötnar were leaving. Nothing was going according to plan.

The children stayed where they stood as they watched Bifrost. Moving into the city would make them lose their line of sight on the bridge, so they did not move. Loki couldn't sharpen his sight to see the Jötnar, so all he could do was grind his teeth together in frustration. One of his sharpened canines cut his lower lip, but he didn't unclench his jaw.

Loki couldn't feel the hum of the magic, but he was able to see Bifrost activate. Sigyn slowly straightened as Bifrost charged with the most curious look.

"What's going on?" She asked.

"What?" Loki repeated. "Is something happening?"

He looked between her and Bifrost, wondering what she felt and feeling irked that he couldn't feel it himself.

"It sounds wrong," Sigyn said innocently and tilted her head to one side. "The sound Bifrost makes is wrong."

She looked at him and then back at Bifrost rapidly, worry fraying her features. Loki narrowed his eyes curiously as Sigyn sharpened her sight. Bifrost was about to activate when Loki suddenly heard a pitched noise. It sounded like ultrasonic, and it made his ears ring for only a moment before it went too high pitched for him to hear. Sigyn flinched with a cry, able to hear what Loki no longer could.

Then Bifrost overloaded. It almost sounded like it screamed and a shockwave of the rainbow energy that powered Bifrost rippled out. Cracks appeared in the Rainbow Bridge, and Sigyn stumbled back in pain. Bifrost stopped spinning as it charged, and Loki was forced to look away from it in order to catch Sigyn.

"I'm alright," Sigyn told him after a few seconds. "That was just something of a shock to my systems. You're lucky you don't have any magic right now."

Loki never would have thought he'd hear that. Sigyn wished that she hadn't almost collapsed from the shock of energy. It was making her look like some sort of fluttery court girl like Jonelle, Sif, or Sefa. Instead of being someone who needed protection, she wanted to be someone Loki could trust and depend on. She wasn't doing a very good job of it.

Sigyn's hood fell down as she stood, and an icy winter breeze tugged at her loose wheat-gold hair and Loki's raven tresses. Loki wanted to brush his hair out of his face, but just like Sigyn, he couldn't move. Neither could look away from what they saw.

Bifrost was deactivated. Livid white cracks spread like veins from the observatory along the Rainbow Bridge. Iridescent energy flowed from the cracks and dripped off the sides of the Rainbow Bridge and into the water or over into the Void. It flowed similar to syrup and was so iridescent it was all the colors of the rainbow. Despite the differences, it still reminded Loki of blood – the blood of Asgard. Burn marks marred the golden surface of the observatory, and more of Bifrost's "blood" oozed from around the base of Heimdall's Observatory.

The children of Asgard were raised believing certain things. They were raised on stories of the Ice War with the Jötnar four centuries ago, and taught of the dangers of both Jötnar and the Dæmons of Muspelheim. They were taught that their king was Allfather and should always be obeyed. They were taught that certain places on Asgard were untouchable by enemy forces: the Weapon's Vault, the black cells of the dungeon, and Bifrost. To see Bifrost injured so badly was, to the children, the equivalent of a sinkhole opening under the palace.

Loki felt Sigyn place her small hand in his. At first he wondered what she was doing, and then realized she was lending him her magic as she had done earlier. He could now sense lifesigns within Bifrost, but some were fluttery. Magic radiated with a jagged aura from Bifrost, and it reminded Loki of a wound.

Then Loki realized with horror that the wounded magic wasn't just in the Observatory, but also from the Rainbow Bridge and deeper still to Asgard's mainland. The Chroniko crystals whose energy powered and sustained Asgard might have been damaged. There was only one explanation that came to mind to explain why Bifrost had been injured.

"Sabotage," Loki whispered.

Sigyn tightened her hand on his in silent agreement.

* * *

By the time Sigyn and Loki ran to Gladsheimr, Bifrost had already been evacuated. Heimdall was sitting on the ground, being tended to by a mage that stabilized him so he could be moved to the Healer's Ward. The Gatekeeper was unconscious, blood running down the side of his face. One of the Jötnar was helping one of his comrades, healing magic flowing around his fingers as he healed burns on Hæra. There was no sign of the third Jötunn. Beyla, Freyja, and Frigga stood by the side of the Rainbow Bridge, pooling their magic to temporarily stabilize the damaged structure. A crowd had gathered around them, and the Star Guard were working to keep the civilians back.

Then Odin was suddenly there, Muninn, one of his ravens, flying ahead of him silently. When Odin got in a position to see Bifrost, he stopped as suddenly as if he had been turned to stone. For a long moment, the Allfather simply stared at the sight of destruction, but then he turned away to his people.

"I know you don't like me Allfather, but you've picked an interesting way to try to kill me," Hæra muttered when he approached those who had been injured. "I never would have thought you'd do something like this to Bifrost to get back at me."

"I didn't," Odin snapped at her to shut her up. "Where is Heimdall?"

An expression of curiosity drifted across Hæra's features. "You're not behind this sabotage? How strange. I always thought Bifrost was a more dangerous weapon, yet it breaks so easily."

Odin pointedly ignored Hæra this time. It seemed like whatever he said around her he ended up regretting. Heimdall was unconscious though, so Odin turned to the three women working with Bifrost for answers. Frigga was leading the other senior mages as they stemmed the damage done and tracked the energy back to it source to check on the Chroniko crystals. He knew it was not only a poor courtesy to interrupt mages, but a dangerous one, so Odin was left with no one who could tell him what had just happened.

Luckily, his other raven Huginn flew over to him from Bifrost and sat on his shoulder. The Allfather quieted as he listened to his raven's report. Huginn couldn't tell if it was sabotage or an accident, but Bifrost had taken a serious blow either way. As the raven explained the state of the damage clarity began to lighten in Odin's remaining eye as he understood what had happened to Asgard's greatest weapons.

Once Huginn finished, Odin found he agreed with the bird's initial assessment. He could not tell from what he had heard if this was a freak accident or clever sabotage. The odds seemed even either way. When Bifrost was stabilized he would have to take a closer look at Bifrost's wounds. There was nothing to do but wait until one of the mages could confirm his guess. Waiting, Odin had learned long ago, was probably the hardest thing there was to do.

* * *

 **Duh na, duh na ( _Jaws_ theme). The trap set by the Raiders is now in motion. Now they're stuck on Asgard where the Casket is.**


	13. Temper Temper

Loki sat in Hárekr's classroom, depressed. A healer had fixed his hands and then whisked Sigyn away to the ward, leaving Loki with nothing to do. Thor and the others had come to Bifröst, but the adults had quickly sent the children scurrying from the area. He wished he had been able to hear Huginn's report.

Although their teacher was not present, most of the students in his class had gathered in the classroom to talk. One waved his hand in front of Loki's face to get his attention. Loki, who had been looking at the board without really seeing it, raised his gaze. It was Thor of course, and Loki instantly guessed he wanted details about Bifröst.

There was nothing Loki could do but shrug. Thor seemed a little disappointed but not surprised. Given how hastily the adults had dismissed the children, it would have been amazing if Loki had gotten a chance to learn something.

Loki drew one of his small, narrow throwing blades as Thor went back to the other boys and turned it over in his hand. His classmates rapidly spoke about what had happened, often glancing in his direction as if expecting him to chime in. While Loki supposed he was flattered, he didn't look up from his knife.

He supposed he should be happy. As he'd wished, the Jötnar were staying longer and the barriers would stay active, giving him more time to learn to control his ice. Why did he feel like what had happened was somehow his fault?

"So they weren't wearing skulls?" Volstagg voiced a question.

Tannr, sitting on Hermód's desk while Hermód himself sat in his seat, nodded. "Two of them were wearing bone armor, but no skulls. It looked more like bone plates."

"Wearing bones," Hermód shuddered. "That is so creepy."

"They probably don't have much metal," Tannr pointed out plainly, "seeing as they live on a world of ice."

Loki's finger grazed across the edge of the blade, cutting open the pad of the finger. His eyebrows moved at the spark of pain, but the would healed almost instantly, leaving only a red smear on the pad of his finger. Stars, he couldn't even handle the blade without hurting himself. Getting new throwing blades had to be one of his top priorities, he thought idly, ignoring the chatter about the Jötnar to the best of his ability. Until he got some he was comfortable with he couldn't poison or curse this set to increase their lethality as he would infect himself when he cut himself. Useless blades. Useless magic.

"What do you think happened with Bifröst?" Jaro asked, throwing the question into open air. "Do you think they froze it or something?"

"If Bifröst could be sabotaged that easily then wouldn't they have done it in the last war?" Someone else pointed out.

"Makes sense," Thor said, looking over at Loki again. His brother sat tensely, almost wound like a rattlesnake. "I wonder if Nira did something."

Nira's name perked Loki's attention, though he gave no outward sign of it. He remembered being her hostage, useless again.

"Nira?" Volstagg asked blankly.

"Sure," Thor shrugged. "She was here not that long ago. Maybe she sabotaged it."

Loki thought that was quite a leap of intuition for his brother and he couldn't discount the point.

Jaro's expression, Loki saw when he briefly looked through his bangs, was dubious. "She's no older than we are. How did she even take control of the Marauders? She's a child but she managed to unite all the Marauder tribes, and unite them under her banner."

"She's one of Vanaheim's royal family," Thor shrugged. "That probably helped. Like how Asgard helps me sometimes."

"Don't forget how she killed those eight cadets, and thirteen more warriors," Tannr said softly.

Everyone quieted in respect for the kills and Loki ran the pad of his finger across the spine of the throwing blade. He remembered that all too well. Loki hadn't thought about it, but how had Nira brought _all of the marauders_ under her control? Either she had far more power then she had shown during her excursion to Asgard or she had a very powerful ally. He wondered which was more likely. Nira didn't strike him as someone that would be willing to take orders.

"I doubt that was enough," Hermód leaned back in his seat. "Besides, didn't she kill half her family to try and become queen? Would Vanaheim really help her?"

"I've never heard of the world turning on its royal family," Thor frowned, eyebrows drawing together. "I guess I don't know. I still think she had something to do with it – her or the Jötnar. It had to have been sabotage. Hey Loki, which do you think it more likely?"

"How should I know?" Loki shouted, slamming the blade against the surface of the desk and giving Thor a look hot with anger.

Thor recoiled, startled by his brother's reaction.

" _Why_ is everyone asking me for answers?" Loki continued, almost shouting. "Don't any of you have _brains of your own_?"

Everyone stared at him. One of Loki's eyebrows twitched at the attention and he tightened his grip on the knife in his hand. Then, in one smooth movement he reversed his grip and held the blade between his finger and thumb by its shining, sharpened tip. Thor's eyes focused on the blade, unable to look away from the polished metal.

Then Loki threw it at Thor. Thor would later realize that Loki had been aiming far to the left and had no intention of actually hitting him, but right then, Thor thought Loki was aiming at him. The silver arc of the knife's flight cut the air in two, and Thor leaned backwards as it flew. He leaned back too far and fell out of his chair as the knife embedded itself deeply in the wall behind him.

The children fell silent and stared at them as Loki stood beside his desk, arm still extend from the throw. Thor sat up slowly, gaze locked on his little brother. He had never seen that particular expression on Loki's face before, seething beneath the surface and barely controlled. He didn't like it. It scared him.

"W-what are you doing?" Thor shouted back at Loki, shoving s chair away and scrambling to his feet so he could face off against his brother. It was the first time he'd ever done that.

" _Stop_ asking me everything," Loki demanded in a low and dangerous voice. " _Stop_ turning to me every time you have a question, expecting me to answer it. I'm good for more than that."

"I-I never said you weren't," Thor shook his head.

"You don't have to say it," Loki hissed, hopping onto the seat of his chair and then dropping on the opposite side so there was only one desk between them.

"No brother," Thor disagreed. "You're wrong."

Thor saw Loki's hand move and thought that Loki was going to throw another knife at him. Looking back, he would also realize Loki had been going to cross his hands behind his back as he habitually did. All he thought at that moment was that he'd nearly been skewered by one of his throwing knives and Loki was going to follow up since he'd missed. He reacted as such.

Loki gave a start when Thor leaped over the desk at him and knocked him to the ground. Desks and chairs slid backwards and the other boys stood and scrambled back, staring at the fighting princes with wide, baffled eyes. The princes landed in a heap, Thor pinning Loki to the ground.

"Thor!" Loki gave a strangled shout. "Get _off_ me."

Thor, surprised that he had actually jumped his brother, sat back. He barely got a chance to string two words together in his mind before Loki sat up and his fist solidly hit Thor between his eyes. Loki used his pent up anger at his magic, the Jötnar, and Bifröst to put as much force behind the hit as possible.

Thor was bowled over backwards, smacking his head against a desk as he did so. It was a solid hit and he fell to the floor, leaving a smear of red on the desk's corner. Loki stood over Thor, his brother nursing his head where it had hit. After watching him for a long second, anger flowing like quicksilver in his eyes, he turned and silently stalked away without checking to see if he was okay. The boys watched him go with wide eyes and slack jaws. Stunned, truly stunned, Thor turned watched as Loki yanked his knife from the wall and left the classroom.

Once Loki's footsteps began to fade, Jaro hurried over and helped Thor stand. Thor put a hand to the back of his head, feeling blood. The wound had already healed, but there was still blood on his fingertips. This was nothing like the bruises and occasional broken bone they inflicted on each other in sparring. Loki's strike had been malicious, and then he'd just walked away.

"Short tempered," Jaro said dryly as he released Thor's arm and took half a step back.

Thor, still looking in the direction Loki had gone, hurt in mind and heart, nodded agreement.

Loki walking down the hallways of Gladsheimr without a real destination in mind, infuriated. He still gripped the knife tightly in one hand, the bruising on his knuckles from where he'd hit Thor healed.

He shouldn't have taken out his frustration concerning his magic on Thor.

There had been blood on the desk. He shouldn't have let the chatter get on his nerves. A mage was supposed to control their emotions.

He shouldn't have just left Thor lying on the ground.

Loki felt the guilt weighing him down, but didn't think that it would end well if he crept back in and apologized to Thor. He wasn't a person to beg forgiveness or kneel in someone's shadow. That was what he would have to do with such a large crowd, and it wasn't _all_ his fault. Thor had been the moron that had jumped him. He'd had that punch coming.

Pushing the thoughts behind him, he returned the knife to its scabbard and glanced around the hallways to determine where he was. He was near the library, which didn't surprise him. While Vingólf housed most of the magical grimoires, he loved reading through the fantasy tales or looking over history in the library. Well, he could go to the library, his room, or Vingólf. After what had happened, Thor would likely leave him alone no matter which option he chose.

He didn't feel like trudging through the snow to the mage's hall or walking up the steps to his room, so that left the library. Loki found himself drawing up short when he rounded a corner, looking at a most surprising sight.

Two Star Guard had their weapons drawn, one a spear lowered and the other with his sword and shield in position, staring at something on the floor. Loki silently glided forward another step and saw a bag on the floor – Hæra's? It was too large to be Asgardian – and something black hissing. His breath caught when he recognized the hissing thing.

"Slítas?" Loki whispered.

His whisper jolted the Star Guard to the reality Loki was behind them and the one with his sword whipped around as if expecting an attack. After what had happened with Bifröst, Loki wasn't surprised by his skittishness. When he saw it was one of the princes, he shyly turned back to the ill-tempered serpent.

Loki couldn't believe Slítas was back on Asgard and began to walk over to the snake. The Star Guard with the spear grabbed his shoulder with his free hand and shook his head, obviously thinking how much trouble he'd get in if he let Loki get killed by a testy reptile. Instead of taking his warning to heart as the guard wished he would do, Loki laughed lightly.

"Don't worry," Loki assured the adult as if the Star Guard were the child. "Slítas has had plenty of chances to kill me and hasn't taken them. I doubt he'll do so now."

"You make it sound like he's sentient," the Star Guard holding Loki remarked.

Loki almost rolled his eyes at the adults' classic closemindedness. Just because something wasn't humanoid didn't make it unintelligent.

"Naturally," Loki agreed.

Surprise made the guard relax his grip on Loki's jacket enough for the young prince to slip free and approach Slítas. The guard made a strangled noise and tried to grab Loki, but he was already out of range and the adult wasn't willing to get any closer. Now both men looked like they were going to get killed, expecting Loki to be injured by the cobra.

Loki knelt and held out a hand. Slítas nuzzled his fingers and then slithered up his arm, spiraling around it as he headed up as he vanished into the jacket sleeve.

"You can move the bag now," Loki told them calmly as he resumed walking as Slítas's tail vanished.

The snake's head popped out by Loki's collar and Loki lowered his arm, walking normally as if there wasn't a snake wrapped around his arm. He left the guards staring as he turned a corner. Once he walked a few steps though, Loki stopped and his light manner wilted away. He turned his attention to Slítas, away from what had happened to Thor.

"Slítas," Loki said seriously.

Slítas slithered out of Loki's collar so he could look his Jötunn friend in the eye. He looked shy, ice crystals a soft white. Loki's expression was unamused.

"Don't think I'm not happy to see you," Loki admitted. "I am. You were supposed to stay on Jötunnheim though, out of father's reach. _What_ are you doing back here?"

Slítas cringed, his hood deflating in a motion not dissimilar to a cat flattening their ears. He knew he was in trouble when Loki used that tone of voice. In an effort to pacify the errant prince, Slítas leaned forward and gently nibbled on Loki's nose without breaking the skin.

Loki, unimpressed, jabbed Slítas behind one of the crystal bunches, a sensitive spot. Slítas released Loki with a meep and jerked his head back, crystals flaring pink. The cobra hissed darkly but Loki gave him a flat, frosty look. After a few seconds, Slítas slowly lowered his head, cowed.

"You were supposed to stay on Jötunnheim," Loki repeated. "You'll have to go back with Hӕra once Bifröst is repaired. I assume she's how you got here."

Slítas opened his mouth to complain, but Loki's hard look came back. Shyly, the serpent closed its jaws and looked away.

"Odin will kill you if he finds you," Loki reminded Slítas. "He tried it once, which is why I had to send you home to Jötunnheim in the first place."

Slítas's crystal became a dark depressed green, so after holding the glare for a few seconds more, Loki reached up and scratched Slítas under the chin. He assumed he'd made his point. Slítas pretended to pout and be cross but his crystals were turning blue, indicating he was enjoying the attention. It was like a dog that couldn't help but wag his tail although Loki didn't vocalize the comparison, knowing it would only irk Slítas.

"But," Loki sighed, "you are here and I'm glad to see you again."

Slítas hummed in his chest, a suspiciously purr like sound, at Loki's comment and rubbed his jaw against Loki's cheek.

"Stop it," Loki ordered, but there was no force behind his words.

Slítas kept nuzzling his friend, ignoring his words. Loki sighed and relented, petting him again. His muscles relaxed and despite his attempt at looking annoyed, smiled.

* * *

 **Loki and Slítas are together again, though not under the best of circumstances. I'm astonished he just Thor and walked away as if he didn't care. He does, of course he does, but it sure didn't look that way.**


	14. Jasmine

Freyja picked her way through Heimdall's Observatory, astonished at the amount of debris. She was fortunate she didn't wear a dress or she'd never be able to walk. Tears had appeared in the metal floor, leaving rifts large enough for her to fall through if she didn't watch her step. Below one was nothing but stars. If she fell she'd fall off Asgard. Debris from the portal mechanism lay strewn across the floor, but the pieces were mostly small.

She sighed. "It's going to take forever to repair this."

Huginn and Muninn circled the Observatory, taking in information to report to Odin. Freyja knelt by the podium where Heimdall typically stood and picked up a sword hilt. Two inches of the blade were all that remained of the sword. The metal that remained was badly bent; it looked like the rest of the blade had been twisted off. Freyja tapped the protruding metal with a fingernail and her eyebrows shot up in surprise as the movement cracked the metal.

"Hmm," she mused as she took a closer look at the hilt. "The molecular structure's been weakened. Now what could cause that?"

Her magic detected traces of energy embedded in the blade and she noticed it was Bifröst's.

"Isn't this…" she started to say before her voice trailed off.

She sighed again as she straightened. It was. She glanced at the nosy ravens, noting how Muninn watched her while Huginn stuck his beak into a crack.

"Did you two find any shrapnel?" She asked them.

Muninn tilted his head quizzically though Freyja knew the raven understood Allspeak. There was a squawk from Huginn as he backed away, holding something in his beak. He glided to her, hovering until he dropped what he held in her palm. Then he flew and sat by his brother.

Freyja looked at what was in her palm. It was a piece of metal shrapnel. The shard of Uru was about as long as her pinky, though irregularly shaped. The edges looked almost scalloped, twisted in too many directions at once. When she applied pressure to it, the shard snapped in half. It wasn't a clean break, but brittle, crumbs of metal fell when she snapped it.

There was no way. Had Bifröst's breakdown truly been caused by this? It was so simple! Sometimes the simplest answers were the best she thought ruefully as she dropped the shards.

"Idiotic men," she snarled under her breath.

Mundanes just couldn't do _anything_ right. Now her mages had to clean up _their_ mess, slowly sealing the cracks in the Rainbow Bridge before it broke and the Observatory fell over the Edge. Turning her back on the ravens, which she knew would do whatever they wanted, she threaded her way through the wreckage. She kept her gaze straight, but still saw the body out of the corner of her eye as she left the Observatory. Useless. Useless and senseless.

Once the sky was overhead she tossed the sword hilt into the air and transformed. Her cloak of feathers molded onto her as she spread her arms, the fingers fusing together as they turned into wings. By the time the sword hilt began falling again, Freyja was in the air.

She caught it in one of her talons and beat her wings as she angled towards Gladsheimr. There was a certain joy in turning into a falcon. While it was simple for a mage of her caliber to use an anti-gravity spell to fly, a falcon was able to spread its wings and perfectly streamline the body, the sensation of wind moving across feathers intoxicating.

Animal transformation was a forbidden magic, but her feather cloak allowed its owner to become a peregrine falcon without complication. She didn't need to worry about her mind transforming into an animal's along with her body, making it so inhuman she forgot she had once been Vanir. There was no fear of not being able to fully transform back, her body twisted so it was perpetually part-animal. No, the cloak protected her, the only safe way to shapeshift into an animal in all the Realms.

Only the sword hilt in her talon dampened her mood as she glided with the aid of a thermal. As long as she was carrying it she couldn't streamline herself properly, and there was still the report she'd have to make shortly. Well, she didn't mind that part. Odin would be terribly embarrassed.

She circled the palace once before tucking her wings in and diving through an open window. The ground streamed before her, colors blurring into kaleidoscopic hues. _This_ was a unique experience, though there was no way she could go the full peregrine full diving speed of over 200mph with the hilt in her talon.

She spread her wings once she was through the window, angling them so she turned. Below, she saw the throne room. Odin was in his usual throne with two of the Jötnar on the floor and Star Guard scattered around.

Odin looked up and she dropped the sword hilt. He reached up and caught it with one hand as she did a tight turn towards the center of the room, transforming as she landed. She heard a choking sound behind her and assumed, correctly, that she'd surprised the Jötnar by returning to her Vanir form. Odin turned the hilt of the sword over.

Before he had a chance to open his big mouth Freyja half-turned to face the Jötnar.

"I found the body of your companion," she addressed Hӕra softly.

Hӕra's expression gave little away, though Freyja knew that had to sting.

"I thought as much," was all the ambassador said.

Her remaining escort member shifted where he stood, likely thinking that if he had been standing to Hӕra's left instead of her right he'd be the one who was dead.

"What is this?" Odin asked, interrupting them.

"Heimdall's sword," Freyja explained shortly.

Odin gave her a flat look, wanting more of an explanation then that.

"The damage to the sword is fracturing," Freyja duly explained. "The molecular structure of the sword has been weakened. I image the centripetal force of Bifröst simply tore it apart. That would account for the shrapnel tangled in Bifröst's workings."

Odin sat stilly in his throne. "Meaning."

Freyja was surprised that he wasn't dismissing the Jötnar, but decided to go with it. Political nonsense was his domain.

"When Bifröst is activated the power flows through the sword," Freyja repeated what she knew he knew. "Evidently, the sword couldn't take the strain of it. So it snapped."

"Snapped," he repeated.

"Shattered might be better," Freyja said thoughtfully. "The force of Bifröst's movement caused it to shatter and it swept up the shrapnel into the gears. It's hardly surprising it overloaded it as it did."

Everyone stared at her. Freyja took some pleasure in Odin's disbelief and shock.

"An accident," Hӕra spoke first, voice soft.

"There's no such thing as perfection," Freyja agreed.

She felt sorry for Hӕra. One of her people had been killed for no good reason.

"Perhaps if Heimdall hadn't thought he was so perfect he might have noticed what was happening to his sword," Freyja added in a more brittle tone. "Then this wouldn't have occurred. Molecular wear _isn't_ instantaneous."

"Freyja," Odin hissed.

"What?" Freyja retorted shortly. "I'm just calling it like I see it. Arrogance _is_ one of the dominant traits of the Æsir."

She and Odin glared at each other tersely. Freyja didn't care what Odin thought of her. She answered to a queen, not an Allfather. Perhaps if she annoyed him enough she'd be sent home, though she had scant hope of that happening.

"It was an accident then," Hӕra repeated, voice a little louder.

"I find it unlikely someone could have damaged Heimdall's sword without his knowledge given he's always holding the damn thing, so yes, it does." Freyja concurred.

"Freyja," Odin hissed again.

"You asked," she retorted again, patience wearing thin. "Now if that's all, I'm going to check on my mages and see if I can't help them repair the Bridge any faster."

She looked at Hӕra.

"You might as well get comfortable," she advised the Jötunn. "Bifröst isn't going to be working for a while. Though I suppose we could weave a gateway to get you back home – later, when we're sure the Observatory isn't going to go _plunging_ over the Edge."

She gripped the edges of her cape with her hands and raised her arms as she transformed. A falcon was soon sitting on the marble floor and took off, flying back through the window.

Odin tried hard not to scowl. Freyja was incorrigible and disrespectful at once. How could she act like this in front of the Jötnar? He hadn't even gotten a chance to ask her about the gateway, which she wanted to do now that she'd mentioned it. He didn't like the idea of the Jötnar staying. Loki had a habit of being too curious for his own good.

As for what to do with the Jötnar in the meantime. Odin turned his attention back to Hӕra and her surviving escort member.

"I will arrange quarters for you until you can be returned to Jötunnheim," Odin informed them. "I advise you remain there. Few will take your presence here favorably."

"Understandable," Hӕra agreed.

Her voice was calm but there was tension in her movements. Odin was unsurprised given the circumstances. She'd just been stranded on the world of her kind's blood enemies. If an Asgardian was trapped on Jötunnheim they'd probably wind up dead, but Odin wasn't nearly so barbaric. They _were_ guests, even though they shouldn't have questioned him and come in the first place.

Using Gungnir, he telepathically spoke to four nearby Star Guard, telling them where to take the two Jötnar. They saluted in acceptance of his order, walking to form up around the Jötnar. Odin noted their blades were bared instead of sheathed and was pleased. The guards were prudent.

Without so much as tipping her head to him, Hӕra allowed herself to be escorted away. The Militia member walked beside her. Odin thought that strange. As her escort, shouldn't he walk slightly behind or in front of her to better keep watch? He accounted it to Jötnar strangeness and inefficiency. Perhaps they simply didn't know better.

Hӕra walked along the hallway with the remaining Militia, escorted by the Æsir. The Æsir were so small. None of the men came up to Hӕra's shoulder. She found it fascinating and a good distraction, though she knew she couldn't allow herself to be distracted for long. Viddi really was the size of an Æsir. If her son used a glamour to change his appearance, he probably _would_ be indistinguishable from a normal Æsir.

A small figure detached itself from one of the columns in the hallway and walked in front of their group. They stopped and the Asgardians instantly raised their weapons, on edge from the nearness of the Jötnar. After a hesitant moment they lowered them again.

"Prince Loki," one of them greeted the figure. "You shouldn't be here."

"Just curious," Loki assured him, speaking softly.

Slítas, as per orders, was out of sight in his jacket. Loki had decided not to go to the library after all. There was another source of information on ice magic besides the books. There was one other question he had beside the magic as well, one he bet only a Jötunn could answer.

"Too curious," a Star Guard muttered.

"Ambassador… Hӕra was it?" Loki asked, speaking to Hӕra and ignoring his father's men.

Hӕra was surprised to be addressed by the proper title as she said, "yes."

"Why is my name strange for an Asgardian?" He asked her.

He was still thinking about that, was he? Had no one told him? She might as well tell him. There was no harm and he had addressed her with respect.

"Because Loki is a Jötunn name," Hӕra explained.

It took a second to sink in, but bewilderment spread across his features when it did.

"What?" He whispered.

Hӕra nodded that he had heard her correctly and continued. "It is an old name and rarely used, based on one of our words for fire. The most recent use of the name was Laufey's son."

"Laufey had a son?" Loki asked distractedly.

"Loki, _my_ prince, was born shortly before the end of the war and killed soon after it ended." Hӕra paused and then added. "You Asgardians have a tendency to get carried away in combat and don't always differentiate between civilian and soldier."

Loki flinched at the thought his people had killed a newborn, but Hӕra knew they had. The body of Laufey's son had never been found, but that was not unexpected. Scavengers had found the building Loki had been hidden in after the soldiers protecting him had been killed by Æsir. Their bodies had been mauled and everyone assumed that Loki, such a small thing, had been eaten. He might not have even been dead before the wolves entered.

The Asgardians encircling her shifted uncomfortably, which made the Militia wary. Hӕra understood why. With the Barrier's tampering, they would be hard-pressed to create even a basic ice spike. If they got into a fight, they'd probably be unarmed and without their magic to aid them.

"Please step aside, my prince," the Star Guard gently told Loki.

Looking down, Loki silently stepped aside and stood against the wall of the hallway. Hӕra felt a touch of regret. She shouldn't be so sharp with a child who, judging from his age, probably hadn't even been born when the Ice War was being fought.

Dúrnir, walking beside Hӕra, noticed with some surprise as he passed Loki that he felt elemental ice magic emanating from his aura. As Asgardian with ice magic? That was rare. He hadn't yet figured out how to balance his ice, which was a common problem, at least among Jötnar children. The Asgardian apparently hadn't figured out the trick to it. That was probably for the best, given he was Æsir.

He went back to the problem at hand. Was he going to try to complete Forad's orders and open a gateway to Jötunnheim? If he could get a Jötunn attack force onto Asgard they could do significant damage, but he now had to do that alone. Could he convince Hӕra to help him? The Raiders intended to steal the Jötunn artifacts and use them against Laufey, but Hӕra didn't know that. Dúrnir could claim they wanted the artifacts back to help their dying planet, which was also true. Would she buy it?

Loki remained standing in the hallway after the group left. Turning over the information he had just received, he began to walk to Vingólf where he assumed Sigyn to be. He needed to tell someone what he had just heard. Perhaps that would help the news sink in. Normally he would find Thor, but didn't think that was a good idea. Strange. That was the first time he'd ever thought that.

Loki barely noticed the snow as he left the palace and went to Vingólf, a building nearby. Vingólf looked small on the outside, only two-stories tall with half the floor space of Gladsheimr. He opened the doors and walked inside the entrance hall, letting the oak doors close behind him. The entrance hall was short and plain, nothing but wooden walls and a floor grey flagstones with a pair of benches against the walls. He scuffed his feet to shake the snow off the boots as he walked to a second set of doors. They were made of willow and engraved with twining designs of leafy vines, flowers and birds tucked among them. There was no gold accent.

The double doors were much lighter then the first set and swung open easily at his touch. Warmth flowed from the door to him, ruffling his hair. Golden light, very different from the dull grey of outside, touched his eyes. The mingled scents of hyacinth, lavender, rose, and a dozen other flowers touched his nose, a sweet, but not overwhelming, cacophony of scents.

Slítas momentarily poked his head from Loki's collar to look around as the doors closed behind him before remembering Loki's orders and hiding himself again. Loki stopped walking, taking in the colors of the flowers at his feet. There were dozens of colors.

The ceiling, charmed to reflect what the sky looked like, was filled with dark grey clouds, low and heavy with snow. Floating silver lightcrystals and white-gold witchlights supplemented what gloomy light the sky provided. He followed a cobblestone path through the flower garden at the entrance as he brushed snow off his jacket, his shivering easing now that he was in the warmer temperatures. It felt like he was in late spring.

He walked under a wooden archway festooned with honeysuckle and his boots crushed grass beneath his feet. The cobblestone path through the flower garden ended at the archway. The center of Vingólf, most of the hall actually, was taken up by the Meadow, a grassy clearing interspersed with trees, bushes, and a large pond. Classrooms, studies, and bedrooms merely lined the edges of it.

Loki sighted the visitor's pavilion ahead of him. It was made of several dozen oak trees that had been charmed to grow into the pavilion's shape. The trunks made up the walls and the canopy the ceiling. Pine boards made the hardwood floor and that, coupled with the lilac bushes outside, created a unique scent inside. Not only was it a good study hall, visitors were usually greeted there and it doubled as the mage's war room in times of need.

He knew Sigyn wouldn't be hanging around there so he turned and took a northeast path. Away from the garden at the entrance the riot of flower scents waned. Loki noticed, not for the first time, that there were a lot of flowering plants in Vingólf. He supposed it wasn't too surprising. This was the mage's hall and over ¾ of all mages were girls; girls liked flowers.

He hoped Sigyn was at Vingólf. He didn't know if she was but he felt he'd find his friend here. If he had magic he would have accounted the feeling to that.

Loki's path took him to a jasmine bush, one large enough to be counted as a small tree. He didn't quite understand how the mages had coaxed jasmine, a vine, to grow as a tree. A single mage sat cross-legged under its branches with her back against the trunk, a book in her lap and head down. Loki exhaled in relief.

Sigyn paused in turning a page and looked up, directly at him. She smiled at the sight of him though Loki had a hard time to mirror her movement. The jasmine's white flowers were currently closed, waiting for night, but traces of the scent lingered in the air. She liked sitting under the jasmine tree, which was probably why its scent always seemed to cling to her clothing.

Upon seeing his failure to smile, Sigyn paused.

"Are you alright?" She asked as Loki approached.

"I'm fine," Loki said shortly, sitting on the grass across from her.

"I doubt that," Sigyn disagreed.

He glared at her but she remained unruffled.

"Fine enough," Loki corrected.

"I doubt that to."

Loki rolled his eyes and looked away. Sigyn remained quiet, waiting for Loki to speak as she was certain he would.

"How's Heimdall?" He asked.

"Fey stabilized him," Sigyn responded. "He'll regain consciousness and will be able to return to his post as soon as Bifröst is fixed, though I don't know when that is."

"I overheard Freyja's report but she didn't say," Loki shrugged.

"She didn't notice you?" Sigyn asked curiously.

"She did," Loki sighed, "she always does. But father didn't. She thinks it was just an accident. Heimdall's sword was molecularly weakened so when he activated it…"

"The force of Bifröst being channeled through the sword shattered it and carried the fragments into the gears," Sigyn finished when he paused. "That makes sense."

Loki nodded.

"If Odin didn't notice you, then did you get to speak to the Jötnar after all?" Sigyn prodded, feeling that was the reason behind his distantness.

"Yeah," Loki agreed. "and I found a friend."

At his words, Slítas poked his head out again. Sigyn stared at him and smiled at the cobra. "He's back?"  
"He's not supposed to be," Loki scowled, "but he came with Hӕra. I just don't know if she knew he was stowing away."

Slítas vanished and slithered out of Loki's sleeve onto the grass, heading to Sigyn. Instead of flinch or scream, Sigyn smiled and held out her hand. Slítas nudged the tips of her fingers before laying his head in her palm. She smiled and stroked his spine with her other hand. The snake began humming, a sound suspiciously similar to purring.

"I asked Hӕra about my name," Loki continued, tension seething into his muscles. "She said it's Jötunn in origin."

Sigyn's eyes brows shot up. "Jötunn? It's not an Asgardian name?"

Loki shook his head, and his expression betrayed it was likely the cause of his hesitance.

"Hæra said it's a rare name on their world," he continued, "and the only person she knew with the name was Prince Loki Laufeyson."

"Laufeyson," Sigyn repeated levelly.

Loki nodded again. They sat in silence for several seconds. It was hard for Loki to grasp. Jötnar were barbarians and monsters. All his life he'd heard terrifying stories about them. Parents frightened children with stories about him. Stories of the horrors Laufey had done – torture, breaking his word (and his honor), and regularly cannibalizing Æsir thrummed in his skull. Why had he been named after the son of their race's most terrible enemy? Had Odin truly hated him so much, truly not wished he'd been born?

Other Æsir children had called him Ice Runt, taking into account his ice magic and shorter, smaller stature. He'd never thought the taunts would make sense.

"I didn't know Laufey had a son," Sigyn mused idly. "He must be long dead for there to be no mention of him."

She lowered her hand to her lap and Slítas, looking between the two of them and sensing this wasn't a moment to interrupt, coiled silently on the grass.

Loki hesitated when she didn't speak again. "That's it? That's all you have to say?"

"You expect me to say something else?" Sigyn asked with a smile.

Loki looked away. Sigyn's smile softened. He was so sensitive, so used to being taunted and belittled. That trait allowed Loki to see the darkness and hidden meaning behind words, something he was taking advantage of to lie better. But.

"You shouldn't take everything so personally," she scolded him. "You don't know why Odin named you that and it doesn't really matter."

"No?" Loki challenged.

"No," Sigyn agreed without hesitation. "Because, Jötunn or not, it's _your_ name and I like it."

Loki looked down, unconvinced. Sigyn recoiled inside at how cruel Odin had been to name his son after such a monster, but stood by what she said. It was his name and whether the name _Loki_ went down in fame or infamy depended on what he did.

Her eyes flickered to his right hand. There was a bit of blood on the knuckles. He must have skinned them. Had he hit something? This must be frustrating for him. What was it like for a mage to not have their magic? It would be like losing an arm, no, more then an arm. Their magic was tied to their lifeforce.

"Did you ask Hӕra about ice magic?" Sigyn questioned, remembered how he'd mentioned doing something like that.

Loki stopped and stared at her, blinking. Then he groaned and leaned backwards, toppling onto the grass to look at the ceiling overhead.

"I forgot," he said flatly.

Sigyn looked at him for several seconds before sighing. "You were so surprised by the name, huh?"

"Oops," Loki said shyly.

And he had no idea when he'd be able to see them again.

"I'm an idiot," he growled to himself.

"I could have told you that," Sigyn shook her head, wheat-colored tresses rippling with the movement. "But they are staying here for a bit, right?"

"Yeah," Loki agreed. "Freyja mentioned something about weaving a gateway since it would be awhile before Bifröst was repaired."

"I've only heard rumors arguing who sabotaged Bifröst," she raised an eyebrow, surprised. "It was a stupid accident?"

"Freyja thinks so and her argument made sense," Loki moved his head so he could see the jasmine bush.

Its dark green leaves were festooned with clusters of white flowers, the petals shut, patiently waiting to bloom. He inhaled deeply, detecting traces of its sweet scent. It had mostly faded, the flowers having been closed for nearly ten hours.

"Say," Loki said distantly. "Why do you like jasmine so much Sigyn? I know the Dökkálfr loved them, but they were a nocturnal species. The flowers only bloom when you sleep."

Sigyn wondered why he'd changed the subject but accounted it to not wanting to mention his blunder. It was better than venting his frustration by hitting something, if that was what happened.

"Jasmine is one of the few plants that grows on all the realms," she told him, gazing at the leaves overhead, "and the meaning of the flower changes between cultures. Some say it means love or motherhood, others say beauty, and some say purity and good luck. It's not like the rose, which everyone agrees is a symbol of love. Yet no matter how different each race's opinion is, its scent is so sweet that they have to smile. I'm sure even the Jötnar and Æsir could agree on that."

Loki watched the leaves rustling in the artificial breeze that circulated Vingólf. For the Jötnar and Æsir to agree on something, for them to think the same way… to have that much in common. He looked away from the flowers. Sigyn was daydreaming again.

Sigyn smiled to herself as Loki averted his gaze. He didn't agree with her. She probably _was_ daydreaming.

Loki was very good at seeing the hidden meaning in another's words, at cutting through the layers of tact to the secret agenda. But. She looked at Loki as he turned his gaze away from the jasmine. But sometimes she feared he was so good at seeing the dark, he had trouble seeing the light.

Slítas sighed and laid his head on the grass.

* * *

 **I'm not sure if you understood that comment Loki made about Laufey having no honor. In viking culture, which Æsir culture is based on, the two worst crimes one can commit are kin-slaying and oath-breaking. Of the two, oath-breaking is actually the worst. To break one's oath, one's word, is to say they had no honor. A man without honor is no better then an animal.**


End file.
